


Immortal

by TheUnpredictableMuse



Series: Supernatural Pride and Prejudice [1]
Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, includes vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 09:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 48,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21575626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnpredictableMuse/pseuds/TheUnpredictableMuse
Summary: A vampire family moves in at Netherfield Park. Chaos ensues. Will the Bennets find love? This will be a Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley and Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy central story (With vampires).(It has recently come to my attention that someone has attempted to steal and publish one of my fanfictions on Amazon. I do not know who the culprit is, but I will polish up my existing public domain fanfictions and then publish them under the pen name Veronica Baranowski. I am not attacking anyone or accusing anyone. And NO ONE will steal my work and call it their own.)
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Series: Supernatural Pride and Prejudice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954666
Comments: 67
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

“You must stop him.” Fitzwilliam confronted Julian in the library.

Door closed and Charles Bingley halfway to Longbourn to propose to Jane Bennet after only dancing with her one night at the Public Assembly, Fitzwilliam Darcy tried to combat the society’s overwhelming fascination and obsessing before it engaged in full. The most leveled headed of the coven, Julian Archwood, lived many centuries. He refused to disclose his real age to the coven, and his long-term polyamorous partner Selene Ariti declined to reveal the long-kept secret. Trusting Julian to instill a sense of stability in the flighty young man, he prayed the elder listened to him.

Without hesitation, the black-haired man looked up from his historical manuscript. “He is in love.”

Fitzwilliam’s jaw set. “Beauty does not equal love.”

“I can not instruct him how to feel. Allow him his fancy. He will learn the restraints of his immortality soon.” Julian’s hand waved in the air dismissively. His eyes returned to the neat, small handwriting cramped onto the pages to save spending income and use the most of the paper. Paper was a luxury, the elder always said in a gravely manner. Fitzwilliam fought the urge to yank the thick manuscript from his hands and force the seriousness to be fully confronted.

He crossed his arms. “I am concerned for his wellbeing.” He stated flatly.

“You are a true friend, but you must permit him his youthful fancies.”

“And doom another mortal when she is not fully aware of our own needs and laws?”

Julian’s head jerked up. “Is that how you see yourself? Doomed?” He asked peculiarly.

Uncrossing his arms and feeling foolish, Fitzwilliam reminded himself that Charles Bingley was not Georgiana and he ought to allow the young man his freedoms to be foolish. “No.”

“You believe I have doomed you.”

“I apologize for my sharp tongue.” He bowed his head in deference.

An easy smile countered his concern. “You are permitted to express genuine discontent., but you will find your Jane Bennet too.” The soft, warm tone put Fitzwilliam back on his feet again and he breathed deeply although he no longer needed to breathe.

As a vampire, the necessity to breathe, eat, and sleep disappeared. Food tasted different to the enhanced taste buds. Breathing, a habit from mortality, carried on for many years before he simply dropped the activity without thought. He only became aware of it after a lady commented upon how he often looked like a statue at assemblies and parties. Charles was too young to remember when he quit breathing, and Julian failed to mark the moment. Selene often traveled alone and met up with her vampire lovers around the world. For years, the lovers never communicated. At first Fitzwilliam thought it strange, but over time he understood the practicality of it. Which was why he worried for Charles.

“Is it a wise match?” He pressed.

“A placid young lady for an impulsive young man?” He countered.

He loathed Julian’s distance from the sensitive subject. “Does he need reined in?”

Julian fully faced him. “You have lived longer than him. Allow him the experience. Jane Bennet is a respectable addition to our family.”

“And will Selene approve?” He hoped that Selene dashed hopes of the marriage before Charles set his heart prematurely on the serenely beautiful lady.

“She will arrive in a fortnight.” Julian surprised him.

Fitzwilliam scoffed. “I pray she does not harm Mrs. Bennet.”

Laughter met slight concern and Julian placed the manuscript on the desk. “Selene has handled worse, Fitzwilliam.”

“I will pray for us.” The gentleman warned his elder before leaving Julian Archwood to his manuscript due to be published once it was edited and cleaned up for the publisher. He worried for Charles Bingley, Jane Bennet, and their coven.

Newly made vampires threatened entire communities and covens contained the threat. Once upon a time in history, hunters stalked and massacred entire covens. Those ages passed, and they lived comfortably as well known and well-respected individuals. Jane Bennet, beautiful and demure now, would become an instant danger to her family and acquaintances.

Three hours later, an ecstatic Charles Bingley tore through the home in unrestrained joy.

“She has accepted.” His friend sang to the drawing room as the local musician played for them. Despite their ages and admirable wealth, none of the gentleman learned to play an instrument. They preferred to study philosophy, classical architecture, literature, and medicine alongside business-oriented skills. “I could die a happy man.”

Kicked back in a wingback chair of sage green, Julian looked very much the esteemed gentleman who avoided daylight and exercised his muscles in place of socialization. His tall frame pushed out the padded matching footstool into the wide walkway between the settees and side tables. “You died once.” Julian remarked dryly.

“I will die again for her pure love.” Charles declared dramatically.

“Do not be foolish, Charles.” Fitzwilliam chided. The young man sounded like silly young ladies’ spoon fed the lie that a gentleman would save them. Helpless ladies were undesirable. It didn’t help that he based his ideal woman off of Selene, Julian’s partner.

Gazing off across the room, the lovestruck idiot sighed. “She accepted. My angel accepted.”

Julian met Fitzwilliam’s eye and nodded.

“Law states she must live among us for a month before the ceremony.” Fitzwilliam reminded him gently. “A month is four weeks, seven days a week. She may refuse at any time.”

“Not my angel.” Insistent on seeing only the purity of his good fortune, Charles Bingley ignored the truth. Hunters, while restricted from outright killing vampires, were still permitted to kill with ‘justification’. Jane Bennet, a refined lady taught to be demure and helpless, did not know how to defend herself and Charles Bingley, a young man who flitted from lady to lady, never learned to defend himself.

Plugging forward because he truly feared for his friend, Fitzwilliam repressed his irritation. “I am pleased she accepted, but you must remember once she turns, she will need to be away from mortal society for the first two years.” Meaning that Charles must be away from society as well, and Charles Bingley thrived in company and withered in isolation.

“I gladly bear the sacrifice.” He pressed his hands to his chest and acted out on the drawing room ‘stage’ for the audience of two unimpressed vampires and a maid lighting the fire to keep the house warm for the human staff.

Julian inserted himself before Fitzwilliam Darcy lost his patience. “But will she?”

“Must you douse my joy?” Charles whined petulantly.

“I remind you reality is not as beautiful as you believe.” The elder insisted more coolly.

With a flick of his wrist, Charles dismissed it. “Pessimism has no home here.”

“I pray for your well-being that Jane is accepting as you are.” Fitzwilliam remarked sharply.

“And I pray you find someone who makes you as much a fool.” Charles directly addressed his friend.

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy scoffed in full regality. “I will never find such a person as she does not exist.”

“You jest!” A scandalized Charles Bingley thrust his hand into the air dramatically, no longer off put by the lack of enthusiasm from his comrades.

“I do not.”

Julian considered both of them before excusing himself and preserving his sanity. The argument could press on for days if both insisted on being right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bennets celebrate Jane's good fortune.

From the very moment Jane said yes to Mr. Bingley, the most attractive gentleman in all of Hertfordshire according to the collective opinion of the female population in attendance of the Public Assembly, Longbourn dived headfirst into chaos. Mr. Bennet acquiesced to his wife’s demands to buy Jane a new wardrobe amidst Lydia’s moping and Mary’s praises. Elizabeth and Kitty hid their opinion on the matter until later when Jane retired for the evening and admitted she should have forced a courtship instead of immediately accepting his offer of marriage. The following morning, Mrs. Bennet cornered them at the breakfast table to plot Jane’s next move.

“Oh, Jane. My dearest Jane.” Their mother rambled over a plate of freshly baked bread buttered and a refreshing morning tea cooling off before the picky lady indulged in it. “You are the most obliging, beautiful lady. I am so proud of you. You’ll make your father the proudest in Hertfordshire.” The sing-song quality of her captivating voice lulled the present company into indifference at the uprooting event.

Mr. Bennet liberally spread the preserves on his bread slice pretending to not hear a word.

Accustomed to the game their parents played regardless of choice of company and setting, the Bennet ladies ignored the exchange in favor of freshly prepared preserves and fluffy bread. A kitchen servant poured hot tea and offered honey to Mr. Bennet. Accepting the sweetener, Mr. Bennet bobbed his head in appreciation.

“Mama, I will not be far.” Jane said.

“I will visit you every day.” Mrs. Bennet lifted her hand to the ceiling as if swearing on her honor as an Anglican.

Not a single lady doubted that their mother would keep this promise. A daughter to be married! A truly momentous event indeed, and to be close as Netherfield Park! A carriage ride away, or a few miles walk, in Elizabeth’s case.

“Lizzy will be with me, Mama.” Jane stated before glancing toward her favorite sister for support.

A sly wink missed by their inattentive mother, and Elizabeth dabbed at her mouth with the handcloth. “You must- “Mrs. Bennet covered her mouth and burped. “-force your sister to accept Mr. Darcy’s company. A handsome, wealthy immortal! Two daughters made immortal. We will be the envy of Hertfordshire for generations!”

“Do not ask me to make Lizzy unhappy.” Jane pleaded.

Mary bowed her head and clasped Elizabeth and Kitty’s hands. They joined her in the post-breakfast prayer, lifting their heads after mentally thanking the Lord for taking care of them and protecting them from the cruel world.

“We must think of her future.”

“Not like this, Mama.” A sternness entered Jane’s gentle voice, attracting Lydia’s undivided curiosity. Rarely Jane used that tone and only when they stepped out of line in formal company. Informal company already was aware of their ‘eccentric’ habits.

Mr. Bennet rose from his chair with his tea cupped in both hands. “Stop troubling the soon to be wed lady, Mrs. Bennet. She must impress the new neighbors.” He bowed his head in deference to Jane, who in truth wondered why Mr. Bingley proposed after a brief introduction and several dances together. She smiled at him in return.

He pat her head in passing. “You’ll never want for anything.”

She looked a dead faced Lydia in the eye. “That is not why I said yes.”

“He is a handsome gentleman.” Kitty sighed happily staring at the china in a display case. They impressed less wealthy company with the extensive collection, but the likes of Bingley, Darcy, and Archwood would turn their nose up at it.

Elizabeth slapped the table. “Nonsense.” She grinned ear to ear mischievously. “You do not need to deceive us. We are poor and your betrothed is wealthy.” Her tone, light and happy, danced over the fragility of their economical position in society as five unwed ladies with a dowry of 1,000 pounds a piece upon their mother’s death.

“Lizzy!” Jane hissed.

“Jane, as you are happy, I am happy for you.” She rolled her ankles and slowly extracted herself off the chair.

Lydia’s jealousy peaked, and her lips pouted. “How will you bear Mr. Darcy’s slight?”

Their father lingered in the corridor listening in without shame. “Yes, we are most curious.”

Never one to back down, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and buried the wounded pride that still stung. “He is only a gentleman.” She answered her father and little sister as a lady ought to.

“Brave of you to share a home with him after a fatal insult.” Mr. Bennet teased.

She relaxed and played with her skirts. “I am the better person, Papa.”

“For your sister, I would hope so.” Mr. Bennet sipped his tea and left the ladies alone once more. Mrs. Bennet’s attention flicked between all of them in calculated scheming not yet made known to the daughters.

Leaning her chin on her propped hands, Lydia mirrored Kitty’s daydream-like aura. “I envy you, Jane.”

“Do not.” Jane reprimanded gently. “Seek your heart and you will find it.”

The sound advice flew over the young ladies hot on the heels of love and landed on the dead heart of their greedy mother stalking wealth and attention around the clock.

Taking the opportunity to escape while Mrs. Bennet, Lydia, and Kitty lapsed into their own minds and hearts, Jane grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her along.

“It is easy for you to speak.” Kitty said after them defiantly.

You are young, Jane thought.

Mary tagged after them. “Immortals are not welcomed everywhere, Jane. Please be safe.” She hugged Jane’s free arm and hung on her possessively.

Falling into her middle sister’s embrace, Jane accepted that she would be missed, and she would miss them. A shame that Mr. Darcy was too distant to choose one of her sisters so that she might have familiar company in her newfound longevity. “The Lord above will protect me, Mary.”

Mrs. Bennet boasted of the great fortune and claimed credit for Jane’s beauty, completely discrediting how handsome Mr. Bennet was in her bid for achievements. Lydia and Kitty bemoaned of how they were overlooked in favor of Elizabeth and Jane, complaints falling on deaf ears of a mother too pleased with the tentative outcome to attend properly to the rest of her children in the same scope of time.

Mary parted way with them at the landing of the second floor.

Safe in their shared bedroom, Jane sank onto the bed and clasped her hands on her lap. “Am I foolish, Lizzy?”

Pacing the bedroom, Elizabeth prayed that Mr. Bingley never changed his mind. The Bennets would never live down the shame and their mother would torture Jane with the abandonment for the rest of their lives. Lydia likely would poke and prod the wound out of spite time to time just to have ‘one over’ Jane, the ‘beauty’ of Hertfordshire.

“You chose a handsome husband.” Elizabeth dodged.

Cocking her head to the side, Jane studied her witty sister. “You do not look pleased.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and faced the center of Meryton’s soon-to-be hottest gossip. “I worry for you and while you are forever beautiful, I will be a wrinkled burden who will one day be no more. I cannot bear the thought- “Her voice choked, and she stomped down the raw emotions with her heel. “-of saying goodbye, but it is your life and your happiness.”

“I would never- “

Elizabeth pushed her palm outward. “He is a handsome man and he is wealthy. You don’t need to worry about my judgment. All I want is a happy Jane. You deserve to be happy.” She bowed her head and sat next to her sister. Hand in hand, she leaned her head on Jane’s shoulder.

“I knew you would understand.” Jane whispered.

“Well, we are, along with Mary, the only sensible people in Longbourn. I know love does not put food on the table. I know I must marry someone of 2,000 or more per annum to be comfortable. Marry your immortal and take advantage of time. Live for us. Especially Lydia.”

“Especially Lydia.” Jane laughed.

“I will miss you once you travel with Mr. Bingley.” Elizabeth admitted.

“I will write often.” Jane swore.

Elizabeth squeezed Jane’s hand. “I know. You must promise me that when we are older, you do not forget us.”

“You have my Bennet word.” Jane leaned into the sisterly embrace and lost herself in the comfortable silence of their secure bedroom. No one would bother them in here until later, and by then, Elizabeth already planned a walk along the lane for privacy from the prying younger siblings.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Elizabeth are escorted to Netherfield to live for a month by their mother and are greeted by Netherfield Party.

Two days after Charles Bingley proposed to Jane Bennet, Mr. Bennet saw his two eldest daughters off to Netherfield Park. Refusing to be left out of the life-changing step forward, Mrs. Bennet accompanied her daughters in the carriage. Matching Mrs. Bennet’s excitement, Charles Bingley paced the veranda that stretched toward Netherfield’s ball room and bordered the cook’s garden.

A slightly amused Julian Archwood counted the exact number of steps Charles paced before he reversed directions. (Eight steps, to the exact number, for the record.)

They heard the carriage clattering toward them although it had yet to appear in visual distance.

“Be calm.” Julian warned the impatient immortal. “If you frighten the mortals, they may decide to refuse your proposal.” When his partner arrived, he’d ask her to help rein in Bingley’s eagerness. Once Jane turned, everything Charles Bingley loved would reduce to a quarter.

Vampire, or immortal as most preferred, communities sprang up around the civilized world. England transformed into a melting pot of vampires due to the laws created to protect the community from hunters determined to destroy every immortal. When Jane Bennet turned, she and her husband would travel from Hertfordshire to the north where a large community spilt over into the border of Scotland. Julian looked forward to the day he didn’t need to scrutinize every interaction Charles Bingley engaged in.

Turning on his heel, Charles faced his maker. “I give you my word,” He pressed his hands together and bowed forward slightly. “-to ensure every comfort personally.” He declared in a moment of calm.

Fitzwilliam Darcy’s jaw twitched. “It is your willingness to fulfill every wish that concerns us. Ladies know when you’re compensating.” Speaking from personal experience, he wanted to avoid the heartbreak that Charles would rain on them if Jane chose not to marry him after the mandatory month.

Most people accepted the invitation, and many marriages started with the change of one human to immortality usually ended after the first several decades. The rare few lasted centuries, and even rarer unions like Julian Archwood and Selene Ariti aged like a fine wine. Most maintained their familial names and changed their given names while a fair few chose entirely different names to transition into the new life. Jane Bennet, a proper young English lady, would accept the invitation. To refuse after living in the same home as her betrothed for a month – the gossip alone would destroy the Bennets reputation.

“Miss Bennet will not fear us.” Charles repeated more firmly, his jaw set.

They locked eyes, the standoff between experience and whimsical choices clashing.

Raising his hand to the sky, Charles’s arched his head back and gazed up at the clear sky. “She is an angel sent from the heavens to bless my existence.”

Julian shook his head. “Fitzwilliam, occupy him while I assist the Bennets.”

The carriage rounded the bend, its driver guiding the horses with an experienced hand.

Protesting the order, Charles followed his elder friend and adviser into the home and to the Billiards room. Standing still as a statue with his hands clasped behind his back, Julian Archwood smelled four different people long before they stepped out of the stopped carriage. The driver, a man of rugged appearance slightly refined for acceptance in a polite, judgmental society, opened the door for the ladies. Mrs. Bennet, a round woman of pleasantly combined facial features and a ready smile, exited first followed by the famed Miss Bennets, Jane and Elizabeth.

Taller than her mother and younger sister, Jane topped at five foot seven inches. Several inches shorter, Elizabeth Bennet rose above her mother by an inch. They smelled of expensive perfume dabbed on at the throat and wrists.

Undeniably the deep blue eyes and naturally pale skin reminded Julian of the ladies of high society. He dared to believe that sunlight rarely graced her skin, which was a shame because a lady like her should spend as much time as possible in the natural beauty of England. Elizabeth, on the other hand, appeared almost wild in appearance with flyaway hair strands refusing to be tamed into the coiled locks of hair framing her rounder, homelier face. A slight brown tinted her skin darker than her mother and sister, and Julian suspected of the pair that his partner would choose Elizabeth Bennet to accompany her often.

An easiness existed between the sisters, which pleased him. Awkwardness in the home heightened the tension, especially as the end of the waiting period neared and jealousy peaked. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley were not his first ‘children’. Two of ten, the former eight reduced to six after hunters killed off the most careless. Unfortunately, if Bingley tempted the gods anymore, only five will remain as a testament to his stubbornly clinging existence. 

Mrs. Bennet clung to Jane, Elizabeth hanging back as her sister and mother lead the way toward Julian. A toothy grin transformed the plump face of Mrs. Bennet, and Julian understood why Mr. Bennet, a man of means, chose someone of her former lesser economic status. She appealed to the most basic needs of a man, and she clearly adored her daughters even if she boasted of their attributes crudely.

“Mr. Archwood, thank you for being the perfect gentleman and welcoming my dearest Jane to your family.” Mrs. Bennet curtsied awkwardly, tugging Jane into the curtsy.

He bowed his head toward her. “It is my pleasure, Mrs. Bennet.”

“You are truly the best gentleman, and Elizabeth will be most behaved, won’t you?” A sharp glance back toward a neutral Elizabeth Bennet shifted Julian’s indifference toward the lady fighting and failing to hide her frustration. Her face twisted comically before flattening into an empty expression most ladies put on when not dancing or shopping.

Jane tugged on her mother’s arm. “Mama.”

“I have no doubt of Miss Elizabeth’s excellent manners.” Julian nipped the subject in the bud and nodded to Elizabeth. Elizabeth nodded in return.

Thump, thump, thump,thump,thump. Compared to Mrs. Bennet and Jane Bennet, Elizabeth Bennet was frightened. It struck him as…impossible. She laughed in the face of an insult to her beauty and danced it off. She faced society with squared shoulders, proud of being a Bennet. She, afraid of them?

Arm thrown up in gesture to the grand home fronting them with windows and drapery hiding the interior from prying eyes and invasive sunlight, Mrs. Bennet turned her attention to the famous Netherfield Park itself. “This is to be your home! I am envious, Jane.”

Irritation interrupted Jane’s boredom. “May we proceed inside?” Julian asked. He allowed Mrs. Bennet and Jane to lead the way to the front entrance where the housekeeper waited impatiently.

“Miss Elizabeth, I must offer my gratitude for accompanying your sister.”

She bristled under his direct attention. “It is of no burden to me, Mr. Archwood.”

“I trust you know more about Netherfield than I. Your wisdom would enlighten us.” He said as they stepped into the home.

Her shoulders squared, spine straight. “Jane and I grew up alongside the Ashbrook children. Netherfield Park is timeless, Mr. Archwood.” She startled at the door closing with a thud.

Julian stepped away from her side. “I heard of them.”

A sadness entered her eyes. She half turned to him. “Their father tragically fell from horseback and never recovered. They live with their uncle in Liverpool.”

“And the owners of Netherfield?”

“Never set foot in Hertfordshire. The Pembrokes are mysteriously distant.” She replied and cringed as her mother exclaimed at Jane’s exceptional beauty and outstanding fortunes upon eyeing the marble and stone busts lined up on majestic pedestals. Personal portraits dotted the walls seemingly at random, and fine Indian carpets popped in the otherwise neutrally colored home. 

“Intriguing.” Julian stated flatly.

Mr. Bingley exploded into the entrance area and clasped Mrs. Bennet’s hands in his. “Mrs. Bennet, you are the most beautiful matron to grace this home.” He averted his eyes from Jane and Jane shied a step back from her mother and Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy hovered in the background, walking slowly toward the clustered group escorted by the disinterested housekeeper.

A deep blush stained Mrs. Bennet’s cheek. “Oh, Jane! He is most handsome!”

Elizabeth flinched.

“Shush, Lizzy.” Mrs. Bennet shook a finger at her second eldest.

Jane breathed deeply and her voice shook. “Mama, they are not accustomed to your energy.”

“My apologies, Mr. Archwood.” Mrs. Bennet demurred to the flat faced Julian Archwood before beaming at Mr. Bingley. “You must forgive me. My Jane is the most precious lady in Meryton!”

Clutching her hands, Jane resembled Elizabeth, a stiff, uncomfortable lady. “My mother, Mr. Bingley, invites yourself and company to dinner at Longbourn next Tuesday.” Her voice echoed in the vast architectural chamber.

“We humbly accept.” Mr. Bingley bowed to his future mother-in-law.

Mrs. Bennet turned to Jane and embraced her. “I would stay longer, Jane, but your aunt is visiting today, and I give you my word you’ll receive me day after tomorrow.”

Jane kissed her mother’s cheek. “Safe travels, Mama.”

Mrs. Bennet hugged Elizabeth. “Dull your with, Elizabeth.”

“Yes, Mama.” Elizabeth mumbled. She walked her mother to the door.

Two manservants hoisted trunks filled with lady clothing and accessories into the home. Jane strolled toward her sister and waved after their mother from the front door before letting out a breath and patting Elizabeth’s shoulder.

The housekeeper appeared at their side like a ghost. “If you’ll follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

Composing themselves, they exchanged wary glances. Mr. Bingley strode alongside them and chatted about the weather and their plans for after dinner while Jane nodded, and Elizabeth absorbed the sparsely decorated interior in open disappointment.

Julian and Fitzwilliam observed the group quietly until only footsteps and Mr. Bingley’s voice could be heard.

“Is it wrong to pity them?” Fitzwilliam asked.

The first interaction passed rather peacefully given the performances at the Public Assembly and the slight Fitzwilliam delivered against Elizabeth Bennet. “Once Charles reappears, take him to town. A quiet house is preferable.”

Selene Ariti may find the situation to be untenable, but she was as unpredictable as she was independent. Her skin color and accent would intrigue the society while her independence would push the more conservative to view her as undesirable. With Fitzwilliam Darcy, Charles Bingley, the Bennet ladies, and himself to think of, he hoped his partner settled in and was happy with the circumstances Charles thrust them into.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An investigator speaks with Mrs. Bennet and Lydia, Kitty, Miss Long, and Miss King visit Jane and Elizabeth at Netherfield Park.

A letter set Nathaniel Hawthorne, a man of exceedingly accurate visions and intuition, on the trail of the otherwise respectable Archwood Coven. The claims detailed in the letter, verified by investigators with some doubt as to the claimant’s honesty on finer details subject to personal bias, concerned the supernatural investigator and his conscious demanded he either stop the threat they were or clear their reputation and allow them to coexist peacefully in the blessed land he called home. He followed the trail of the Archwood Coven from Scotland, their previous home for the last six years, and ended in Hertfordshire, a county home to the town of Meryton and adjoining farmland. The principal family, the Bennets, became the center of the latest gossips and jealous parents who dreamed of the day a wealthy immortal may offer to their daughter or son.

Duty bound to protect vulnerable ladies, he wrote a letter to Mrs. Bennet and waited for a reply while staying in Meryton. Taking advantage of the town’s leisure activities, he browsed the shops in search of a gift for his future wife, a seamstress he wooed through letters and poetry crafted in the late hours of evenings or early hours of the mornings. Returning to the inn he stayed at, a hastily scrawled reply greeted him. The invitation to take tea with Mrs. Bennet caught him off guard.

He replied instantly, handed the letter off to a courier with payment, and made the acquaintance of the parson, John Brook and dined with the Longs. The following day, he waited until after breakfast to visit Mrs. Bennet at Longbourn.

The housekeeper introduced him into the drawing room where Mrs. Bennet needlepointed an ugly flower in a mixture of unflattering colors. She motioned him to sit, observing him curiously.

“Mr. Hawthorne, I was most delighted to receive your letter.” She said casually.

He clutched his hands on his lap overcome with a case of the nerves. How he accomplished half his investigations he did not know, but miraculously the end results revealed truths hidden beneath layers of lies, rumors, and misconceptions. “I felt it prudent to make information available to you, as it concerns your eldest daughter, Ma’am.”

Her brow lifted. “Go on.”

Picking at his nails, Nathaniel Hawthorne steeled against thee expected criticism. “I must express my gratitude for permitting this audience.” He pressed his foot flat to the floor to prevent it from bouncing.

Immaculately clean, the drawing room furnished with the latest trend and bragged of false luxury. Wallpaper peeled at the bottom corner in the vestibule, and he judged the area rugs to be thin and worn out. In his humble opinion, they allocated their wealth in the wrong areas. From the description the Longs and Parson Brook, the Bennets flirted with social disgrace far too often to be acceptable for any high society family.

She gestured grandly. “How could I refuse? You expressed yourself most eloquently.”

He rubbed his hands together, uncertain how to proceed without offending her. “The gentleman living at Netherfield Park are vampires.”

“They prefer the term ‘immortal’.” She corrected him.

“Mr. Archwood, as well as his companions present themselves as most respectable. I implore you to be cautious around them. A gentleman known as Mr. Wickham can attest the Mr. Darcy is a dangerous gentleman willing to quell any threats to his reputation.” He touched upon the main point of importance.

“And who is Mr. Wickham?” She cocked her head curiously at him.

An uneasy smile smashed into a thin line. “A childhood companion who Mr. Darcy disfigured horribly. He strongly disapproved of the planned union of the Miss Georgiana Darcy and Mr. George Wickham, the son of the late steward Mr. Richard Wickham.”

She almost spilled her tea on her lap and scrubbed at the small spot with her hand in embarrassment.

“He presents as a gentleman. Most male immortals do.” He said softly.

Leaning forward, she placed her teacup on the saucer on the side table and sighed. “Is Mr. Wickham in good health, sir?”

“He is unable to father children, but yes, he lives, Mrs. Bennet.”

A betrayed look crossed Mrs. Bennet’s visage. Clearing the dark energy with a sip of the tea in front of her, she then breathed deeply and motioned for him to continue speaking.

“The former Miss Darcy married a gentleman of exceptional title and bore him two sons and four daughters. She appears to be happy.” Mr. Hawthorne observed that despite Fitzwilliam Darcy becoming immortal and Georgiana Darcy following the mortal path in life, the brother watched over the sister to this day watching over his nephews and nieces and occasionally bailing his brother-in-law out of debt.

“Poor Mr. Wickham.” Mrs. Bennet sympathized. “To love a lady only to be rejected by her immortal brother. She must not have loved him to marry another.”

He pressed his palms against his knees and leaned forward at a slight incline. “I can help rescue your daughter from their clutches.” Hinging on bated breath, Mr. Hawthorne counted on reason swaying the reckless socialite.

She recoiled. “Why should I mistrust Mr. Archwood and Mr. Bingley? They are not Mr. Darcy.” 

Sensing he crossed an invisible line; Mr. Hawthorne realigned his strategy. “They are dangerous. Miss Jane Bennet deserves a true gentleman.” His research on Mr. Bingley further proved that a flighty gentleman risks a lady’s reputation more than a lady’s thoughtlessness.

“I must disagree.” She almost screeched. “Mr. Bingley is a true gentleman.”

He bowed his head. “I will defer to your motherly judgment, Mrs. Bennet.”

“And I will defer to you that Mr. Darcy is a gentleman of questionable self-control.” Mrs. Bennet replied shortly.

A few short miles away at Netherfield, Jane confronted her worries with Elizabeth. The first night at Netherfield Park unsettled Jane’s serenity, and she didn’t understand why. They stood on the veranda facing the wind and its destructive hairstyling defiant of the potential criticism the gentleman may heap on them later.

“Jane, Jane!” Lydia ran up the steps of the veranda toward them. Brushing off the joint censure, she bounced on her toes in unbridled energy.

Fingertips pressed her forehead, Jane battled her rarely expressed emotions. “Lydia, please tell me you are with company.” The idea of brash, ignorant Lydia on her own horrified the proud lady. They were already the laughingstock of Meryton, if not Hertfordshire entirely, and with the Archwood Coven, the opportunity for a new beginning pleased Jane.

Putting on a strong front and pretending that everything was perfect required energy and a base of confidence in herself and her ability to influence others around her. Elizabeth’s approach slapped people into confronting the subject without the ability to brush around it tenderly. Together they tried to remedy the taint on their family’s name, but it wasn’t easy. Mary’s piety saved the lady from social censure – for now – but people routinely called her plain and dull.

“Miss King, Miss Long, and Kitty insisted we visit.” She clasped her hands together and leaned so far over her breasts were on full view.

Lip twitching, Elizabeth leveled a dirty look on the stupidest of the Bennets. “Lydia, you must remember we are staying at the will of the Archwood Coven.” She stated in light scolding.

“Oh, hush. We are your sisters.” Lydia waved her off.

“Miss King and Miss Long are not.” Jane gestured to the approaching trio composed of Kitty and their close acquaintances.

“You should be happy we are visiting.” Lydia bat her eyelashes at them, a trick that worked on their father half the time and their mother most of the time. Aunt Philips laughed it off and pat Lydia on the shoulder, back or head each time she tried it, irritating the fifteen-year-old every time.

“I am but it is not your place to enter another’s home without warning.” Elizabeth lowered her voice, head cocked just right with the most severe expression worthy of their grandmother.

“La. You are too severe.”

“Lydia.” Elizabeth hissed, jerking her head toward the gossips.

Gossip spread faster than they combatted it, and firsthand knowledge had a way of becoming the focus for those vying for attention from the gentleman, near and far.

“Is Mr. Darcy home? Miss King inherited 10,000 pounds and needs a husband.” Lydia winked.

“Lydia!” Elizabeth yelled and Jane fought the urge to strangle her bratty, mindless absence of intelligence sister.

Retreating inside before the group attracted attention from the library, Jane motioned for the housekeeper to have a kitchen hand supply them with fresh tea. Miss King and Miss Long stopped to admire the busts while Lydia skipped along the smooth floors and nearly collided with a corner before adjusting course and continuing as if nothing happened. Elizabeth ushered them into the music room, the closest room and shut the door. Jane left it open a crack and prayed that the ladies didn’t stay long.

The music room protected them from the curiosity of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Archwood. Mr. Bingley hovered for a half hour before the housekeeper insisted he learn how to direct a household in the absence of others. Indifferent and distant, the woman treated Charles Bingley like a roadside distraction. It amused Elizabeth to see an immortal being effortlessly directed by a mortal woman.

She’d laugh about if she were speaking to Charlotte Lucas or Jane privately, but with the company of Lydia, Kitty, Miss King and Miss Long, she needed to hide her personal enjoyment from the embarrassing sight.

“…and we were in town when Mr. Hawthorne assured us the Lycan packs are under control. I am glad Papa can not afford to send us to London.” Lydia thrust her chest out and smirked. She paraded the elevated position over Miss Long while envying Miss King’s 10,000 pounds. “Mr. Hawthorne is most informed, Jane, and he said that the most eligible bachelors are in the city, not the countryside.”

“Lydia, must you?” Elizabeth prodded, the light scolding blatantly ignored by the silly twit of a child.

“He is handsome, Lizzy, and I would marry him if he were wealthier.” She declared, horrifying Elizabeth and mortifying Kitty. Miss King and Miss Long giggled, as Mr. Hawthorne was a perfect economical match for them. No one would object to an agreeable, busy body like the investigator who spent every available day accruing an income most redistributed within a short span – mostly on ‘ladies’, the ‘good drink’, and an opportunity at great fortunes won and not inherited or earned.

Clearing her throat, Jane threaded a needle. “Kitty, you are well?”

“I envy Mary.” Kitty moped. “Papa finally conceded to Mr. Brook courting her. Mama is in heaven. You, betrothed. Mary in a courtship. Which leaves Lydie, Lizzy and me to find a suitor.”

Suspiciously silent, Miss King and Miss Long enjoyed their tea while soaking in the direct source of gossip.

“He is perfect for her.” Lydia crowed, surely heard by the immortals and eavesdropping staff. “Better her than I. I am too pretty for someone so poor.” She pressed a hand to her chest.

Arranging her basket of colored threads, Jane tried to pinpoint the distress. “They are a handsome couple.” Jane stated firmly. She glanced at Kitty, measuring the comfort level of her visitors before deciding that she needed the company. She adored Elizabeth, but Elizabeth could be trying on one’s nerves after a spell.

Kitty fawned. “He makes her smile.”

“I fully approve.”

“As do I. Mama says Mary is too plain and that no one would consider Mary as desirable except a clergyman.”

“Mama is cruel, Kitty.” Elizabeth moved to her feet and caught herself trapped in her own novel of internal conflicts. She wanted to be here for Jane, but she wanted far from Netherfield Park. She would persevere – for Jane. Jane needed her. She would stay. For now.

Kitty watched Elizabeth closely. “Too cruel, but Mary bears it well.”

“Lizzy! Have you heard from the Lucas family?” Kitty asked before Lydia spoke again.

“They are visiting relatives.” Miss King announced eagerly, happy to be a source of information.

Lydia cocked her brow.

Jane held prolonged eye contact. She _dared_ Lydia to speak up again, the threat lingering and ultimately silencing the younger lady.

Miss Long pined. “I miss Maria.”

“As do I.” Lydia threw her hand up.

“And I.” Kitty added halfheartedly.

“They will return in a week.” Miss King promised confidently.

Lydia played with her hands shyly. “Jane, have you received the new wardrobe?”

“It requires time to make, Lydia.” Elizabeth squared off with her youngest sister and biggest headache.

A mischievous look entered the troublemaker’s eyes. “May I have your old dresses?” She ignored Elizabeth once more.

“You should not ask that of your sister.” Miss Long gasped.

“Jane is my sister, not a stranger.” Lydia stated flatly. Sticking her tongue out at her friend, it seemed Lydia Bennet did not care how the Archwood Coven thought of the Bennets or herself.

Jane glared at them both. “Let us not quarrel.” She raised her tea to them and sipped it. Taking cue from Jane, everyone toed the line. Elizabeth bowed her head to Jane and stared at the door, paranoid they were being listened in on although the scandal that the Bennets were was a well-known fact.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Netherfield Party learns more about each other.

Exploring Netherfield while Jane relaxed in her bedchambers until dinner, Elizabeth soaked up the cultures remembered by the artifacts and mimics scattered throughout the home in a seemingly random manner. The busts of what she assumed to be historical figures carried throughout the house, framing self-portraits of Julian Archwood and Fitzwilliam Darcy. She stopped to admire the portrait of Fitzwilliam Darcy, pitying the fact that he slighted her. Hints of Charles Bingley had yet to invade Netherfield, but she didn’t mind as the flighty young man annoyed her.

The dramatic nature of Charles Bingley wore on her nerves. Leaving Lydia behind at Longbourn relieved her of the daily headache. To think that she met Lydia’s equal in ridiculousness in male form!

At the very least, she did not need to chaperone him.

Pausing at the entrance to the library, she gazed upon the rows of books lined up gloriously.

“Do enter, Miss Bennet.” A hearty chuckle startled her.

She faced Mr. Archwood and clutched her hands together. “I do not mean to interrupt your peace.”

The library sprawled out in front of her, its placing of furniture pleasing and accessible for any individual. With plenty of room for unruly children or immature teenagers or pacing men, she imagined how the previous tenants’ generations past must have enjoyed the room. As a child growing up, she was never permitted in the library at Netherfield Park.

“Please have a seat.” He motioned to a sage green sleigh couch positioned conveniently close to the fireplace.

“I did not wish to disturb your peace, Mr. Archwood.” She faced the gentleman staring her down and she imagined he must’ve served in the military prior to now. The way he carried himself resembled that of an officer she respected. She recognized the mannerisms of a soldier, and Mr. Archwood ‘screamed’ his military past to the intelligent eye.

He gestured once more and smiled. Imperfect crooked teeth distinguished by shiny fangs hooked her attention immediately. “You are not.”

“Sir, might I ask a question?” She toed the threshold between corridor and library. Fear held her back, glimpses of a mangled body haunting her.

“You have many, no doubt.” He propped his feet up on a footstool and balanced what appeared to be a journal on his lap.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. “Will we see Jane again after she…” Rolling her hands, she bowed away from the truth.

He cocked his brow quizzically. “Is made immortal? Yes, but it will be years.”

She’d lose Jane to Bingley, a man she thought that did not deserve her sister, although she predicted Jane’s calmness would help center Mr. Bingley’s whims. “And if Jane wishes to stay mortal?” Her voice shook and she clenched her fingers.

“Her wish will be respected.” He sat up straighter and placed his feet on the floor.

“Will it always be respected?” She leaned in, not yet stepping over the threshold.

“Yes.” He answered instantly, never blinking.

Believing him, she allowed herself to sit on the couch and observed his attentive easiness. She liked Mr. Archwood most. He presented a respectable image and professed himself to be an avid participant in society. He selected those who surrounded him with care, although she still held out that Charles Bingley was a wise choice in companions. All in all, he treated everyone around him equally, a trait she come to admire and prefer.

“How long will you stay in Hertfordshire?” She asked.

“I intend to lease the home for several years.” Propping his feet up again, he resumed the reading of a handwritten journal. The language characters were foreign to her, and she desired to understand the text more so than before.

Mr. Archwood’s sharp eyes and pointed nose centered on a full face with defined cheeks and ‘laugh lines’ around his mouth. She found him pleasant in appearance but not overwhelmingly handsome like Mr. Darcy. His presence spoke of power and wisdom, almost in direct contrast of her father’s behaviors. “And how do you find Hertfordshire, Mr. Archwood?”

He glanced up before resuming his reading. “Welcoming.” He sighed. “It is rare to find in a world that believes immortals are evil and should be eradicated. Fortunately England is civilized and views us as deserving of the same freedoms and rights.”

“As well as Scotland.” Elizabeth said.

He closed the journal, his thumb marking the page. “You appear uneasy, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth’s lip twitched. “In less than a full month, my sister will be removed from Hertfordshire. My dear sister who I rely on for sanity and real conversation.” She played with her hands, picking at immaculate nails neatly trimmed.

“If you are unable to communicate with your sister, I will aid you in the heartfelt mission. Mr. Bingley will make her immortal, but she is my responsibility as much as Mr. Bingley is.” His gentle voice shifted the ground beneath her firm opinion that they were roguish individuals with no regard for anyone but their own needs. Perhaps he was tricking her? She hoped not.

“From what I read, va-immortals are held to a second law.” Her eyes scanned him anxiously in search of an illusive answer to her concerns.

“Yes. I have the law book if you wish to read it.” He motioned to the shelves.

“I do not want to offend-“

“You are not. All mortals are curious.” An affectionate, open smile disarmed her entirely.

“Your partner is to arrive within the fortnight.” She fumbled over her words in haste to remove perceived offense.

“Yes. Her name is Selene Ariti.” He observed her subtly, and she was certain he witnessed her nerves at their ends threatening to lose all control and abandon her to the nerve wrecking situation of living in a house full of immortals.

Curiosity poked her until she couldn’t ignore it anymore. “Is she of the same descent?”

“She descends from the land of sand and sun.” He boasted warmly, a hint of love caressing each word. Elizabeth adored the admiration seeping from a man of considerable age.

“India?”

“Egypt.”

Her education lacking, she wished she learned more about the country of origin he listed. “We were not taught much about Egypt. Do you have books on the country?”

“I do. Selene will be able to answer any questions you have. She’s traveled the world thrice over.” He once again motioned to the bookshelves that captivated Elizabeth and surely would hold Mary hostage if she saw this room even for a second.

“I have devoured Shakespeare and every modern novel I find. I hope your library is more expansive-“

“I can proudly say that it is.” He smirked as the youthful bubbliness peaking through her formerly closed exterior.

“May I?” She pointed eagerly to the shelves.

“I will have Miss Boording chaperone you. I would not wish rumors to slander you.” He assured and shortly vacated the room to fetch the lady companion, daughter of Bartlett Boording and his temporary responsibility while her father traveled the country making business deals and investments.

Without further hesitation, Elizabeth perused the shelves, inwardly squealing as she found a copy of her favorite authors’ books and started a pile on the couch.

When Julian Archwood returned to the silent library with the fourteen year old Miss Annabeth Boording, Elizabeth curled up in the corner of the couch with a familiar favorite – Shakespeare. Mr. Archwood resumed his seat while Miss Boording practiced her pencil drawings in a sketchbook by the window.

Time passed faster than anyone realized. Servants retrieved everyone from their respective rooms and presented delectable meals to each person at the table. Jane cocked her head in confusion. “I thought immortals were unable to eat solid food.”

“We are perfectly able to eat it, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy answered respectfully while Charles bowed his head and prayed over his meal. “It provides no sustenance.”

“We eat out of habit.” Mr. Archwood simplified with a warm smile.

Elizabeth inhaled the wafting scent, grateful for the larger budget of the Archwood Coven. They only ate this well at Longbourn twice a month. “The cook is outdoing themselves.” She declared cheerfully.

The three nodded to her acknowledgment. Losing herself in the food, Elizabeth forgot all about her fear of the blood thirsty predators seated around the table. Jane’s own thoughts paralyzed as her as stared at the food and then picked at it hesitantly.

A conversation light dinner and hour later, the residents of Netherfield Park retreated to the drawing room and their chosen activities. Charles Bingley read a script from the local theatre, honored to have his opinion valued and promised to return it promptly with suggestions on how to improve it. The king of dramatics, as he became known as throughout the actor community, devoured plays and operas with ferocity. Mr. Darcy penned business letters to keep his estate matters handled while he traveled. Jane handstitched a shawl while Elizabeth continued to read her borrowed library book.

The vampire law book bored her quickly and she averted her eyes about the room. She latched onto the flat faced Mr. Darcy frowning at the paper weighted to the table by a square block paperweight.

“Mr. Darcy.” She waited until the gentleman looked up in shock of being addressed. “Does Hertfordshire displease you?”

“Why would you ask such a question, Miss Elizabeth?” He asked in genuine confusion.

Something about Mr. Darcy called to her. Shying away from the draw to him, she opened the law book again. “You never smile.”

“There is no occasion, Miss Elizabeth.” He answered bluntly.

She cocked her brow. “No occasion, Mr. Darcy?”

“No occasion, Miss Elizabeth.”

She did not know why she wanted to converse with him, but the idea of his attention diverting from her filled her with dread. Even now as she feared the argument that may arise, she wanted him to look at her and focus on her. “The joy of laughter heals the deepest of depressions.” She stated as if it were obvious.

“What you say is true, but time is cruel.” He admitted honestly.

“And dancing is the artform of savages?” Elizabeth recalled his insult at the public assembly. Her heart beat fast, and she squeezed the book in clammy hands.

Contrite, he bowed his head. “I apologize for my sharp tongue, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Tolerable company, Mr. Darcy, will be in short supply if you do not smile in public.” She advised kindly, able to forgive him for the slight.

He looked at her strangely.

Fearing she crossed a line; Elizabeth hastily covered her own tracks under the scrutiny of Mr. Bingley and Jane. “It is not necessary. I only wished to offer advice to improve Meryton’s opinion of yourself and company. When Jane joins your family, she will reflect on you and you will reflect on her.” Thoughts of hunters killing her sister for being an immortal frightened her, not that she would address that specifically with anyone regardless of inducement.

Mr. Bingley closed his book loudly and opened his mouth to speak. Clearing his throat, Mr. Darcy rushed to speak before an upset Charles turned into trouble. “Your sister will be safe with us.” He assured, seeming distracted before resuming his letter writing with renewed interest.

“I will hold you to that, Mr. Darcy.”

“Lizzy, before you bury Mr. Darcy in promises,” Jane spoke up gently, softening Charles’s harsh appearance and prodding his need to be a protective, overbearing guardian to life. “- might you permit me the sharpness of your own tongue and help me write a letter to Charlotte?”

Elizabeth smirked.

Charles laughed. “You are saved, Darcy.”

“Charles, Miss Elizabeth merely expressed sisterly concern.” Darcy argued.

“I detected censure, Darcy.” His friend teased.

“Have you no attention for your own interests?”

“My book is finished.” He lifted his bound script toward the ceiling. Loose leaf paper filled with notes, page numbers, and line numbers scattered the script start to finish. The writers and directors of the plays would be grateful for his assistance – when he was next in town.

“You read uncommonly fast.”

“And you write uncommonly fast.”

Joining her sister at the writing desk, Elizabeth hoped the infighting didn’t escalate to a full verbal brawl. Immortals have a bad reputation as being ill tempered. Being strong and ill tempered? A recipe for death and disaster. A new sheet of paper in front of them, Jane earnestly applied herself to writing their friend, Charlotte Lucas.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles Bingley and Fitzwilliam Darcy squabble and Lydia makes a fool of herself at Netherfield Park.

Choosing to ride the property and escape the awkwardness of the home occupied by two young ladies, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley noted the terrain and its deficiencies for Julian. Their elder and creator insisted that they learn the property and hand over any suggestions for Julian to undertake for the betterment of the tenants.

The next six years, six being the magic number for Julian Archwood, he would call Netherfield Park home before moving again. The constant moving increased living costs, but the coven’s passive and active investments supported their livelihood and then some. Selene supported herself in her travels and often stayed with companions in other countries, investing and increasing the coven’s fortunes abroad. Charles Bingley’s 100,000 pounds made him fabulously handsome and overwhelmingly popular among the ladies. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s 10,000 per annum consistently attracted ladies north to south and from parts of Scotland he never dreamed of visiting, let alone thought of in his lifetime.

This solidified into a routine for them whenever they settled into a new home, especially large properties with tenants who may need an assist regardless of if the landlord was responsible for the less wealthy tenants.

“Darcy, you observe Miss Elizabeth closely.” Charles said, unable to focus on the task at hand.

New to the family and moved to Scotland before traveling to Hertfordshire to lease Netherfield Park, Charles Bingley’s first inspection of the property disappointed him. Studying the incline angles of the terrain and general suitability for crop growth bored him. Fitzwilliam attempted to interest him in the seriousness of the concern as 100,000 in the hands of someone who failed to stick to a budget and living within the means, but the brainless gentleman resembled the young Lydia Bennet more than a naïve or uneducated gentleman who lucked into fortune. He noticed Charles couldn’t focus on anything for an extended period, and the only activity he wholly focused on was dancing and ladies.

“She is afraid of us.” Fitzwilliam said.

Her raised alertness and overactive heart rate combined with the tight reactions she carried out with them the last three days raised the red flags he learned well from his first five years as an immortal. The first day he thought her full of herself but after the breaking of the proverbial awkwardness at his nastiness against her at the Public Assembly he felt sorry for her. She agreed to live among them for her sister’s happiness, and he admired her resolve to be the crutch of a quiet sibling. Every sister needed an Elizabeth Bennet, and he dared to believe he wanted to know her better.

“My angel is not.” Charles gloated.

Fitzwilliam controlled his face. “Your angel is pressured by her mother.”

“A temporary mortal who I will outlive.” Charles grinned, exposing perfectly aligned teeth and pointy fangs.

He rubbed his steed’s neck affectionately. “Are you not concerned that your angel does not love you?”

“She will love me in time.” Charles insisted on the verge of complete ignorance of the world pre-existing him. Everyone in Meryton warned the Archwood Coven about the Bennets before the Public Assembly, which pushed Charles towards Jane Bennet at breakneck speed.

Bowing his head, Fitzwilliam Darcy genuinely prayed. He lifted his head to spy Charles grinning stupidly ear to ear. “I pray she does, Charles.”

“Darcy, if you continue to guard Miss Elizabeth, you should at least do her the due respect and show her you are not entirely insufferable.” His younger ‘brother’ insisted.

He scoffed.

“Your pride blinds you to a beautiful lady.”

“I am not searching for a wife.”

“One does not require- “Charles looked him in the eye. “-a wife to dance and walk and speak with civility.”

Caught off guard by the seriousness of the obvious wisdom, Fitzwilliam stared at the younger man in hope of a sharp retort. “I do not need a voice of reason, Charles.” He snapped, his fangs peeking through his pressed lips. Fitzwilliam turned his steed away from Charles and resumed the path they set out at the stables.

“Do not ride away, Darcy!” Charles shouted after him, nudging the brown mare into a jog after Darcy’s black stallion.

Avoiding the routine drama, Julian Archwood faced his own test of patience safely nestled in the music room of Netherfield Park.

Lydia dragged Miss Long on a dutiful visit to a ‘beloved’ sister. Miss Long amused Julian Archwood and the Bennet sisters with trained vocals outclassing most in Meryton. Slender fingers danced along the keys without hesitation, her body moving with the music and bringing to life the true Madalene Long, first born daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Long.

“Your voice is exquisite, Miss Long.” Julian complimented the plain young lady, all ease and quiet charm, at the end of the piece.

Jane finished up her embroidered scarf and set it aside, content to be without busy work. Elizabeth slogged through the vampire law book determined to learn more about the people that would count her sister as one of them.

“Thank you, Mr. Archwood.” Miss Long beamed and plucked her fingers along the keys in playful happiness.

Lydia gazed off into nothingness, vainly hoping that Mr. Darcy may have taken an interest in her. Alas, not a gentleman to be seen except Mr. Julian Archwood!

“Miss Bennet, do you play the pianoforte?” Julian asked Jane, catching her ‘in the open’.

She stared back at him like a deer ready to bolt for cover. “I do not, sir.”

“Miss Elizabeth?” Julian switched to Elizabeth readily.

Elizabeth laughed. “Poorly, sir.”

“Mr. Darcy is not present.” He let the hint drop like an anchor. “Might we be graced?”

“Only if Miss Long hovers.” Elizabeth relented and closed the law book with extra umph.

“It will be my pleasure, Miss Eliza.” Miss Long motioned Elizabeth to join her at the finest piece of furniture in the home, delivered a week prior to the Public Assembly.

Elizabeth threw up her hands in mock concern. “Jane, do you protest my weak voice?” A cheerful smile offset the seriousness of the words, and Jane relaxed.

Jane shook her head and motioned for Elizabeth to join Miss Long at her leisure.

She sighed dramatically. “If you insist.”

“Lizzy, you protest too much.” Lydia chided her. Lydia stopped admiring Jane’s hard work cast aside over the top of the couch and pouted. “I wish someone would notice me.”

Jane angled toward her youngest sister. “Does Mama know you are here?”

“Of course!” Her face flamed. 

Elizabeth rushed to Miss Long’s side and hesitantly perused the music selection, significantly larger than yesterday. She glanced curiously toward Mr. Archwood and wondered if he purchased them specifically for their comfort and amusement.

“If we were to return you to Longbourn and we questioned Mama- “Jane’s critical tone peppered the sense of ease that seduced the gathering into a serene calm before a proverbial storm.

“She would say yes- “

Jane and Lydia leaned in toward each other while Mr. Archwood tried to pretend to not notice the squabbling. Jane’s jaw squared and she breathed deeply. “It is rude to invite yourself into a stranger’s house.”

“Yes, yes…must you lecture me?” Lydia waved her hand about.

“Lydia, if you want people to respect you and gentlemen to admire you, you must practice good manners, social politeness, and restraint.”

Crossing her arms, Lydia squared off. “We are not you, Jane.”

“Your elder sister is wise, Miss Lydia. You should follow her council.” Julian said.

Miss Long placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm, both spellbound by the disaster about to unfold. Lydia’s face screwed up, and Jane’s passive aggressive anger threatened to spill over for rare public mockery.

“Why? What immortal will turn his eye to me?” She demanded childishly, toeing a line that Elizabeth deemed dangerous with any vampire regardless of their temperament.

“Hold your tongue, Lydia.” Jane hissed.

Lydia threw her hand in the air. Elizabeth sucked on her lip and faced the keys, running her fingers down the keys in playful rebellion at proper music. Julian arched his eyebrow and cast a glance in her direction as if to suggest ‘Really?’ “Everyone is serious. Why? We are family soon, and Mama says I am perfect as I am.”

“Perfectly her daughter, but an impolite lady who pushes herself into mockery.” He pushed back in a firm, fatherly manner opposite of Mr. Bennet.

Lydia laughed harshly. “Leave them to mock me. I am Lydia Bennet. Infallible and strong of heart.”

Jane’s mouth pressed thin, her hand twitching on her lap.

Elizabeth tried to stand but Miss Long pulled her back down on the bench. “Mr. Bennet is correct. You are one of the silliest in England.” Mr. Archwood stated bluntly.

“La!”

Engaging in earnest with a concentrated, scrunched up face, Miss Long corrected Elizabeth’s slipping of the fingers and hesitation of the next note. Lydia complained of her sister’s inability to play as well as Miss Long and begged Miss Long to take over before their ears bled. Ignoring her silly sister, Elizabeth warmed up her fingers mid-song and restarted with real purpose. A solid string of musical notes melded together into a recognizable piece stumbling toward perfection at the tutoring of a borderline frustrated Miss Long.

“Your fingering is solid, Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy would offer no censure if he were present.” Julian remarked over Lydia’s grumbling. Less than a half hour later, Lydia demanded to go home and Miss Long insisted on finishing the song with Elizabeth first. 

Jane grabbed hold of Lydia’s hand, pulled her from the room and left Elizabeth and Miss Long to play a slower piece for the mildly interested Julian Archwood.

He moved his arms to the momentum, grateful for the distraction and respecting the bravery that Elizabeth displayed. He suspected if the law book interested her more, she never be lured to the pianoforte for her faltering performance.

“ _Have you no regard for the Bennet name_?”

“ _I do not know why you are yelling at me. I have done nothing wrong. You have your precious wealthy gentleman. Why should I not try for Mr. Darcy?_ ”

Julian snorted. Lydia and Mr. Darcy? Hahahahahahaha. The heavens would wilt, and Satan would claw through the dirt to stand between the pair.

“ _Mr. Darcy will never fall violently in love with you. You are barely of respectable age, and it would be scandal for him to be married to a lady of a mere 15 years, no matter what Mama says. 1,000 pounds is not enough to seduce his good opinion, and you visiting every day endangers my marriage to Mr. Bingley_.”

“ _How so, sister? He offered the day after the Public Assembly_.”

“ _If you must visit me, act properly. I will not lose Mr. Bingley to your foolish aspirations_.”

“ _My aspirations are not foolish_.”

His hearing failed to pick up more conversation and he concluded it ended. An angry Jane made him pity the lady more than fear her. He imagined she ascended to a god-tier of pettiness if fully provoked, but to his odd disappointment she maintained her composure and hid the humiliation as well as any court lady obscured by a patterned fan. A shame because her thoughts interested him the most.

The music stopped and Miss Long thanked Elizabeth for humoring them. Elizabeth embraced her friend and invited her to visit again in several days times and to not fall prey to Lydia’s shameful pandering. They laughed about Lydia’s foolishness before thanking Mr. Archwood for permission to use his finely tuned pianoforte.

“It is my sincerest pleasure, Miss Long, and you are welcome to visit us often and perhaps sing with the musician that we hired to amuse us in the evening hours. As you are witness, Miss Bennet does not play often, and her level of expertise is not on the same as Mr. Cull’s. I do not intend to insult your performance, Miss Bennet- “

“No apology needed, Sir. I am aware that I play poorly.” Elizabeth smiled back and made herself comfortable with the lawbook again. “I second the suggestion. Mr. Cull needs a female voice to balance out his music.”

Miss Long bowed her head in deference. “Then I will strive to call upon Netherfield once a week.”

“Twice.” Julian insisted. He stood and bowed to the ladies. “Pardon me as I sense the gentleman have not returned from their study of the property and need to speak with the stablemaster.”

They curtsied.

“He is a curious gentleman, Elizabeth.” Miss Long said after several minutes of being alone in the music room with Elizabeth Bennet.

Cocking her head, Elizabeth pondered what made her like Mr. Archwood. She decided he was an agreeable gentleman who knew how to manipulate anyone to feel comfortable around him.

“Yes, he is.” Elizabeth agreed, quite liking her current living arrangements. No father to mock her, no mother to question her every move, no sisters to make her miserable and question if she will ever find someone to offer a hand in marriage.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane's nerves are frayed, and Charles is confronted about his emotional distance with Jane.

Frustrated beyond the usual boundaries a lady was expected to endure in polite society, Jane tried to ignore her nagging doubts. Elizabeth unfolded into a lovable shoulder to lean on, reaching out to the Archwood Coven in a more natural manner than Jane dared. Lydia’s usual antics bothered her short nerves, and she feared she’d turn into her mother before the full month completed.

“Do not look at me like that, Lizzy.” She stopped walking the bedchamber twice the size of their shared room at Longbourn. Thick drapery blocked out invasive sunlight, shafts of light filtered through a lighter drapery layered behind the thick drapery.

Tucked in a sage colored armchair adjacent to a shaft of daylight, Elizabeth cocked a brow.

“I know what you think.” Jane fret.

“Do you?” Elizabeth asked gently.

Their morning passed peacefully. Jane asked Charles to take a turn in the garden and Mr. Bingley refused. Day 5 and Jane suspected that doubts crossed her betrothed’s mind about the association to the Bennets. After hasty claims of business in town, the gentlemen vacated the home. Miss Boording introduced herself to Jane while Elizabeth practiced on the pianoforte and apologized for the shyness governing her isolation. Choosing to hide in her room rather than awkwardly converse with a shy young lady, Jane hoped to calm her frayed state of existence. Elizabeth followed shortly after.

Jane squared her shoulders. “You think I am foolish.”

Her sister’s flat expression twitched. “I do?”

“Do not lie.” Sitting on the edge of her bed, she curled her legs up like a little girl in final resignation. “You disapprove.”

Elizabeth pressed the book flat in her lap. “No.” She said. “I am afraid for you. Have you thought that you will die – to become an immortal?”

She breathed deeply. “Yes.”

“How thoroughly?” She pressed Jane.

“I am not naïve, Lizzy.”

“Just tired of Mama.” Elizabeth quipped.

Jane frowned. “I did not say that.”

“Your face did.”

“I am not talking about this.” Jane threw herself on her back and stared up at the ceiling in ultimate frustration.

Her family tortured her, but she worried for the future of her siblings. No one would seriously consider Lydia as a marriageable prospect until she matured. Kitty pined for a true connection and Elizabeth attracted incompatible gentlemen. Mr. Brook lured Mary out of her religious shell, a rare miracle that Jane thanked the heavens for many times over. One less sister to worry over and three to bear the Bennet name in quiet shame.

Head held high; Elizabeth shrugged off the defensive Jane. “I am attempting to read and have no wish to argue.” She held up Belinda by Maria Edgeworth.

Huffing, Jane almost wished her sister chose to debate the virtues of remaining mortal versus becoming an immortal. She needed the light verbal sparring to boil off her newfound insecurities. Head bowed and attention on the first edition, a most scandalous but equally compelling read, Elizabeth ignored her.

In the heart of Meryton, Charles Bingley freely spent his daily income and conversed with every shopkeeper and businessman who wanted his opinion on the economy and trades changing London and beyond. His infatuation with Jane Bennet barely registered in the back of his mind until her uncle Robert Philips mentioned the marriage documents after crossing their direct path for the stables. He admired her profusely, often proud of his choice in a life partner, but he also understood they had time to learn more about one another.

Returning to a too quiet house, Julian informed them that the Bennet ladies chose to keep to Jane’s room until dinner. Charles pouted before accepting the lack of company for an hour and made use of the time by reading his sister’s letters in the privacy of a sitting room well decorated in neutral taste.

“Do not go far, Fitzwilliam. I will need your advice on how to accommodate Saji Nagayasu.” Julian stopped the weary home stuck gentleman from escaping to some lighted corner to pen another letter. “The man is a mystery shrouded in mist and I am at a loss of how to make him comfortable in England.”

Darcy bowed his head shortly. “I hope he brings his own tea. Last we hosted him he called our selection limited.”

“Your collection.” Julian clarified, amused at the idea of Fitzwilliam Darcy being anything except perfect once in a full moon. “My collection satisfied his taste buds.”

“It amazes me that he prefers tea to a laced drink. Charles is reckless, but I am not. If we attack or harm the ladies, Meryton will turn against us and hunters will stalk us to our end days. We will never live down the guilt and shame.” He bowed his head in memory of how he nearly killed George Wickham and that it haunted him even to this day and would continue to haunt him for decades after the blackguard’s death. “We must protect our guests and ensure their habits do not endanger those that trust us.”

“I do not doubt your amiable association with the gentleman, Fitzwilliam. I also understand your concern and will be sure to provide him an extra bottle for his own feeding schedule.” Julian sighed.

Their supply of bottled blood sustained them and prevented any and all attacks on the locals. Living much longer than he ever hoped for, Julian Archwood preordered their supply a month in advance and never failed to provide for their thirst. Fitzwilliam Darcy wasn’t the only person with blood on their hands, and Charles almost killed several ladies. If it were not for Fitzwilliam stalking Charles and constantly warning the parents of gullible young ladies who fell for Charles’s charms, the Archwood Coven rightfully belonged in the past.

He feared the change in criminal law, as it provided for their blood supply. Any criminal charged with the death penalty wasn’t hung or shot, etcetera. They were sedated and then drained of their lifeforce. Executioners called it barbaric, and rights activists demanded the practice end. Majority of the citizenry defended the practice, declaring it limited criminal activity.

The citizenry wasn’t wrong – and Julian knew one day they would have to end the practice, but that day was not today or tomorrow.

Sacrifices were necessary.

“That’s all, Fitz.” He dismissed the younger immortal and escaped into the love letter Selene wrote him last century in her native tongue.

Exiting the library with more weight on his shoulders, Fitzwilliam Darcy looked forward to Saji Nagayasu’s company. The matured man might help him understand why he looked upon Elizabeth Bennet with greater respect in too short a period.

A hearty first course thoroughly distracted the dining party now more familiarly acquainted with another. 

Julian chatted with Fitzwilliam about the preparations for welcoming Selene and a family friend while Charles indulged in his lamb cutlets. Jane swirled the soup with her spoon and waited for the second courses.

Peppering the gentlemen with questions about immortal law, Elizabeth glowed. The men leaned into the enthusiastic lady, and Jane envied her younger sister. A year separated them, although Jane felt younger because of her ignorance of immortal law. Elizabeth always outshined her with knowledge and a knack of picking up languages whenever she heard them.

“Am I to understand, sir, that the Lycans are, in fact, allies to the immortals?”

Julian nodded. “We are all the celestial subjects – made in the image of our moral leaders. If we do not support each other, who will support us?”

Elizabeth stared at Julian Archwood in complete denial. Fitzwilliam Darcy cocked his brow before handing over his empty plate to a ready servant.

“Truly, is it that foreign an idea?” Julian challenged.

Jane inwardly cringed. What if Charles chose to end the engagement? It would taint his reputation, but she would be mocked and pitied and somehow blamed for it. What if Elizabeth steered her prosperous future toward the grave as well?

“No, but we are always told that Lycans war with Immortals for sport. It is entirely impossible to avoid learning of, even with all the trained ears of mothers and fathers trying to protect their daughters.”

“Lizzy, please.” Jane pleaded.

Elizabeth stopped speaking and turned to a plainly distressed Jane Bennet. “I am not trying to embarrass you. I only wish to understand the world you’ll enter.”

“I know, but at the table?” She gave up the soup and blamed her lack of appetite on her anxieties. Multiple uninvited visitors, Lydia, and now Elizabeth diving into the supernatural realm without invitation?

Charles considered Jane, kind eyes lingering on her beautiful visage. “Are you well, Miss Bennet?” He asked.

Jane breathed. “I am well.”

“We may speak of the weather and town if you wish.” Charles insisted.

She shook her head, all politeness. “I do not wish to deprive everyone of their interests.”

The jab elbowed Elizabeth into early extraction from a subject she intensely wished to explore.

A furtive glance from Julian to Charles and Charles cleared his throat. “Might I interest you in the town gossip?”

“Only from reputable sources, Mr. Bingley.” Jane acquiesced.

Mr. Darcy nodded to Elizabeth and she nodded to him. Julian clasped his hands and observed the oddity of a skittish Jane Bennet.

Brief relay of gossip subdued Jane’s troubled mind and heart and rushed them through the second course. A succulent fruit dish closing out dinner and the ladies separated from the gentlemen. Ladies to the drawing room and gentlemen to the Billiards room, Jane retreated into letter writing and Elizabeth returned to her new friends – books from Mr. Archwood’s admirable library.

Julian locked the Billiard’s room door. He waited for the two to ready a game before addressing the one person he regret making immortal.

“Town was amusing?” He asked.

Having spent the day speaking with the farmer tenants, Julian heard all the gossip at the dining table second hand from Charles and failed to be affected by the words of potentially jealous or bitter individuals.

Charles perked up. “Exceedingly.”

“As you relayed at the table.”

No longer smiling, Charles hesitated.

“Miss Bennet spoke little today. Maybe she will smile if you read her one of your plays.” Julian hinted and tapped his foot against the floor in emphasis.

Insulted, Charles scoffed. “I need no assistance on how to woo a lady.” Charles replied shortly.

Darcy gripped the end of his cue. “You have one month to learn who she is. When she is turned, she will need to adjust to her new body and urges. Learning who she is then is not advantageous.”

Seeing himself cornered, Charles faced his immortal family. “I promised to protect her and never leave her in need or want.”

Like brothers in arms Fitzwilliam and Julian stood shoulder to shoulder.

“Are you present in the evenings?” Darcy asked pointedly.

“I am present in the room, yes.” Charles nodded aggressively.

Julian clasped his hands tightly behind his back, face set in stone. “Mentally, Charles.”

“She contributes little and I know more of Miss Elizabeth Bennet than Miss Jane Bennet.” Darcy explained the obvious.

Charles put aside his cue.

“You are to live with her at the colony. You need to bond with her. Before Selene arrives.” Julian stated bluntly with his air of authority occasionally flexed.

Hesitating in his convictions, Charles glanced between Darcy and Julian. “I’m sure Miss Bennet has no reservations.”

“If we were to confront her, do you trust your perceptions?” Fitzwilliam asked.

Julian’s expression softened. “We are only concerned about your wellbeing, Charles.”

Bowing to their will, Charles promised to set aside the following afternoon to his betrothed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note * I am American. I am not Japanese. I chose the last name Saji and the given name Nagayasu separately. They were taken from association with people from the Oda Nobunaga, etc. I needed a name for my vampire samurai (Who is friends with Selene Ariti and Julian Archwood and SPOILER ALERT will play a slightly bigger role later in the story.) and these two choices weren’t directly tied to a historical figure. So please, I mean no insult to anyone. I don’t have the energy to write a historical Japanese figure properly, otherwise I probably would have chosen someone like Oda Nobunaga, etc. As the character is included, I will attempt to depict his behaviors to be consistent with how one is expected to act during the Edo Era, but as I am American, I will likely not nail everything 100%. Thank you for understanding. One last time, I mean no insult to anyone. It is just a character and not a reflection on anyone, culture, etc.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bingley and Darcy surprise Jane and Elizabeth.

Not desiring another lecture, Bingley set out to impress his betrothed and convert Elizabeth’s detachment into a fondness for his character. Observing closely, Darcy promised Julian to keep the Bennets safe. He felt a closeness to Elizabeth Bennet akin to unblemished adoration and it embarrassed him. He latched onto Bingley’s mission to impress his betrothed to impress upon Elizabeth a serious interest in her as a person of interest.

“I thought we ought to walk the lane today.” Charles announced to the breakfast table in utmost cheer.

“I would be remiss if you were not to join us, Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy stated seriously.

Caught mid-bite, Elizabeth quickly swallowed and scrambled to put together words to make a decently worded reply. “If Jane wishes me to-“

“You would not be invading my privacy, Lizzy. I would greatly welcome the company.” Jane blushed and fluttered her eyelashes at Charles Bingley, a handsome young man of one and twenty years at the age of him becoming immortal. It had been several years since then, but he hadn’t changed much from the day he became one of the supernatural. He inclined his head slightly toward her. “Will we walk the entire lane?”

“Yes. If you are able.” Charles beamed.

“My reading will be most disturbed.” She remarked dryly to Mr. Darcy.

“I would narrate it for you this evening if you’d tolerate my dry voice.” Mr. Darcy retorted.

Caught in the web of an infatuation, Elizabeth stuttered. Mindful of Mr. Archwood’s attentions, she shut her mouth and bowed her head. “Mr. Darcy, you are exceptionally unkind to yourself. Of course I accept.” She looked Mr. Archwood defiantly in the eye and made it clear that she would not run from a challenge.

Nay. She was Elizabeth Bennet, and Elizabeth Bennet did not run.

Proud of his progress, Mr. Darcy then turned to Jane. “Miss Bennet, is the breakfast to your liking?”

Jane glanced at her jam smothered bread and nodded. She ate a light breakfast to protect her figure, even if it were acceptable for a lady to lose her light figure once a married woman.

“Might I assist in fetching your redingotes and gloves?” Mr. Darcy volunteered his services.

Left to their own surprise at this twist in events, Jane and Elizabeth consented without protest. Mr. Archwood’s lips quirked upward, the smugness masking a truth he spotted the moment Fitzwilliam Darcy stepped out of his cold boundaries and into social graces hungry for appreciation. Fitzwilliam Darcy liked Elizabeth Bennet and Elizabeth Bennet admired Mr. Darcy. All they needed was a…a nudge.

Arms entwined Jane and Charles Bingley lead the way from the veranda to the lane and its far reaches to the road where they would turn around and take a more scenic route back to the veranda. Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth followed, walking separately and within an arm’s distance between them.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

“For what?”

“For making Jane happy today.” Elizabeth looked up at the older gentleman. “I know that this was not wholly Mr. Bingley’s idea.”

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Bingley is also an immortal.” He touched his ear hinting that their conversation could easily be overheard.

“I am well aware, Mr. Darcy. I only meant he is distracted by the marriage arrangements.” Elizabeth shrugged and looked forward, suddenly conscious of how her figure appeared. “She has been nervous and I worry about her. She should be happy and I am sure she will be, but the current transition from unmarried to married, the weight of it bearing on her is immense.”

“I am sorry to hear that..” Mr. Darcy grieved and considered the placid expression hiding the real Elizabeth Bennet he admired.

Her eyes raked over his well structured face. Cheeks burning, she looked away and schooled her face into the placid expression she struggled to maintain. Fitzwilliam Darcy admired the honorable battle.

He found himself unable to stop himself. “Miss Elizabeth, are you happy at Netherfield?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” The way she spoke his name flipped his heart in a manner he could not fathom. He yearned for her to repeat his name, and it took him by violent surprise. Should he risk his honor and hers by continuing this open acquaintance? “It does a lady wonders to have some distance between herself and her younger sisters. I miss them but I will return to Longbourn soon enough.”

“May I call on you at Longbourn, Miss Elizabeth?” He shocked himself with the eagerness shoving him into her company.

She was beneath him in wealth and class, and they lived in two different worlds. This – whatever he called it – would end poorly for both of them.

Her smile lifted his spirits and banished the doubts before they manifested and soured this happiness. “Yes, Mr. Darcy. My mother would especially wish to display Mrs. Batch’s superior cooking. I vouch for Mrs. Batch’s ability to cook anything into a divine plate of food.” Elizabeth relaxed and found herself quite pleased with Mr. Darcy’s attention. A lady ought to enjoy a gentleman’s attentions unashamedly time to time.

He clutched his hands behind his back. “If you vouch for the honorable Mrs. Batch, I am fully inclined to believe you.”

She laughed. “Mr. Darcy, might I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes.” Darcy hemmed.

Her eyes cast forward on the backs of Jane and Charles. “As Jane will become an immortal and we all will be mortal, I am at a loss of how to maintain our bond. You have a sister you are close to. How may I…not lose my sister?” She looked at him with a most pained glint in her eye.

He nodded slowly, fiddling with his hands. “You ask a difficult question I can not honestly answer to full satisfaction.”

“I apologize. It was out-“

“No.” He offered his arm to her and she accepted. “I am unsure how to answer. When I was made, my sister was 15. It has been many years and I am often confronted with what you face now. Letters, visits, wedding and funeral invitations…short lived. Take solace in that you will grow with your family.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Poor Jane.”

Darcy fell silent and then bumbled over his next statement. “Your sister will be in safe hands. Julian Archwood and Selene Ariti are the best guardians a young lady could ask for.”

“I will miss Jane, Mr. Darcy, but I will gladly call Mr. Bingley family.” She smiled once more and noted the pair observing them now. Jane clutched Mr. Bingley’s arm tightly and urged him to take the scenic route back to the house.

As they turned to take the walking path, the Bennet carriage ascended the lane.

“Mr. Bingley, is my family visiting?” Jane asked.

Elizabeth dread the other prediction – Lydia pulling everyone else into the ‘seduction of Mr. Darcy’ scheme.

“We were to keep it a secret, but I see no reason to hold the secret any more. Julian invited your family to a full day of entertainment.” Charles answered eagerly.

Jane transformed from an outwardly mildly pleased lady into a replica of Lydia.

“Even Mama?” Elizabeth uttered.

“Including your mother, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Bingley answered, choosing to ignore the dark tone in which Elizabeth lost her good spirits.

Jane turned to Elizabeth. “I wonder if Mr. Brook will attend, Lizzy.”

“I hope he does.” Elizabeth declared. “To see Mary in bloom.”

Mr. Darcy covered Elizabeth’s hand on his arm pleased to have stolen a moment of peace with the beautiful lady so full of life he couldn’t bear to rip it from her soul and replace it with the undead life of immortality. They walked back to Netherfield in silence, Jane huddled towards Mr. Bingley in a possessive manner that did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth or Mr. Darcy.

The entire Bennet party announced themselves long before the foursome neared the home. The dizzying array of scents temporarily overwhelmed the young nose of Charles Bingley and irritated the seasoned Fitzwilliam Darcy. Immortals living in isolation for extended periods of time wasn’t unheard of and with good reason – as the delicacy of the senses of a newly made immortal balanced precariously between in-check and spiked into excruciating pains. Mr. Bingley’s face screwed up a moment before he forced a cheerful expression in place of the twisted visage.

Upon sighting her daughter, Mrs. Bennet cleared a path for Jane and crushed her in a tight embrace. She smoothed Jane’s bonnet and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. Seeking an escape from the strong perfume, the gentleman fled for more intelligent company.

“I hope you are encouraging Mr. Darcy’s attentions, Lizzy.”

“Mama!”

Elizabeth searched the party for sight of Mr. Brook, pleased when she spotted the Parson with Mary hanging on his arm. They smiled openly and Mary laughed, patting Mr. Brook’s arm and saying something she could not hear. 

“Jane, you are beautiful as always. How do you find your Mr. Bingley? I pray he has not disappointed you.”

Jane lost composure and wrapped her arms around her mother. “I missed you, Mama.”

“I am always here, Jane. You must give your betrothed your full devotion. Do not fuss over us.” Mrs. Bennet assured her first born. “You must speak to Mary. She will not divulge a word about Mr. Brook.”

“Mama, you must respect her privacy.” Jane pleaded.

“Must I?” Mrs. Bennet adjusted the strap on her bonnet.

Elizabeth glanced toward her father and noted the distance Fitzwilliam Darcy placed between himself and her father. A bored expression characterized the handsome features she secretly admired.

“Mary has always been private.” Jane explained.

Brushing off her daughters’ warnings, Mrs. Bennet gushed over Bingley’s handsomeness and Jane’s grand fortune in securing a wealthy husband.

Kitty grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, startling her and hugged her. Sinking into the friendly intimate embrace, Elizabeth allowed herself to relax again. “I have so much to tell you!” She whispered and winked.

“Oh?” Elizabeth’s eyes connected with Mr. Darcy’s. A brief moment she peered past the tint of red in his brown eyes and saw a man. Not an immortal, but a man. “Tell me about it inside, Kit.”

They gravitated toward the music room in pairs. Mr. Cull played the pianoforte for the guests. Mary and Mr. Brook listened to Lydia speak of Mr. Hawthorne and his new visitors while Mrs. Bennet dominated Jane and Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet seamlessly discussed ties in London and the future of Mr. Edward Gardiner’s factory in the face of current policies.

Elizabeth seated Kitty in the corner by the window and asked after Kitty’s health and eventually the current gossip. Barraged with meaningless rumors of such and such, Elizabeth once more locked eyes with Mr. Darcy. He smiled at her and seemed to have nod. Her heart fluttered.

“He is handsome, Lizzy.” Kitty elbowed her.

“Hush, Kit. They can hear.” Was it awful of her to want him to know she admired him? No. But she and he were not fit for one another. He deserved someone who could match his position in society and wealth and she held neither.

“Let him. You are a beautiful lady too.” Kitty curled her hand in Elizabeth’s. “Miss King is heartbroken to not be invited. I informed her she will not miss anything.”

Elizabeth bet her entire 1,000 pounds today would produce more tension and rumors than the last five years in Hertfordshire. “Miss King will find a husband to adore her. She is quite handsome with her 10,000 pounds.”

Kitty giggled. “Freckled 10,000 pounds.”

“Freckles are handsome too, Kitty.” Elizabeth laughed. “Poor Miss King. Perhaps London would do her favors.”

“London would change all our fortunes.” Kitty pined.

They paused and observed Julian Archwood enter with a stack of letters.. He placed the letters in a box on the mantle and made himself comfortable in the center of the room.

“Lizzy, will you come home to Longbourn after this month?” Kitty asked seriously.

Elizabeth nodded, filled with regret and calmed only by the promise of Mr. Darcy’s future visits.

“I will need you to walk with me to Lucas Lodge. Mama will not allow us to borrow the carriage.” Kitty whined.

“It is for the best. Returning home requires time to rest. You must remember traveling is exhausting.” Elizabeth tried to ignore Mr. Darcy’s casual glances – almost completely unnoticed if she hadn’t learned how to read his body language. “They still receive letters if you wish to communicate.”

“I miss Maria.”

The music stopped. Mr. Cull sipped his tea before arranging the next three songs. A quick scan of the room revealed an easy balance of interest and distraction from the boredom of everyday. Everyone except Mr. Cull and Julian Archwood interacted with one another, and no one appeared displeased – not even the ‘distant’ Mr. Darcy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party continuation.

Mrs. Bennet laughed too loudly. Lydia coaxed Kitty into speaking freely about rumors that should be handled more sensitively. Mr. Bennet allowed it all to take place without a thought to how it might put off more fragile individuals. None too alarming to the eldest person in the room, Julian Archwood, witnessed many scandals throughout history and believed the current society he resided in to be sensitive – not overly sensitive, but sensitive nonetheless.

Mary and Mr. Brook amused Jane and Mr. Bingley with talk of the emerging country dances and an invitation for Mr. Brook to visit a friend in a neighboring county. The conversation carried over to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, both who listened with equal interest while attempting to find their niche in the company.

“Mr. Wade is the most amusing fellow. I met him when we were younger, and he has a way with people that I have never witnessed before. I learned most of my speaking skills from him.” Mr. Brook’s warm voice reached to the farthest corners of the room, a byproduct of his consistent sermons to a large audience.

“Mr. Brook, you mean to tell me that Mr. Wade is owed our compliments?” Mary shyly teased.

Mrs. Bennet abruptly stopped speaking to observe her middle-born daughter in confusion.

“Mama, I said Mr. Crown called upon us at Mrs. Long’s.” Lydia grabbed her mother’s hand impatiently. “And he was the most handsome gentleman just returned from visiting his relatives. He said the most curious thing, Mama- “Lydia’s voice raised to outmatch Mr. Brook’s.

“Not now, Lydie.” Mrs. Bennet pat her hand dismissively and honed in on the promising courtship clearly shaping into a beautiful pending marriage.

Jane’s placid expression never shifted, and Elizabeth hoped she revealed some emotion or else everyone would think she did not care for Mr. Bingley. Half the month almost through and she hid her frustrations and emotions apart from Elizabeth in rare moments of vulnerability. She clung to Mr. Bingley in a possessive manner all throughout the day, but that wasn’t enough for a society that demanded women express emotion and men hide it. Jane needed to show more emotion, as Charlotte once said.

Mr. Bingley’s easy maneuvering carried on the casual conversation and Mr. Wade became a greater subject of interest to present company. Lydia tried to regain her mother’s attention several more times, rejected before Kitty asked about Mr. Hawthorne and his new visitors. Radically turning the attention from Mr. Wade and Mr. Brook to Mr. Hawthorne, Jane finally breathed a sigh of relief and quickly retreated into herself again.

“Two more investigators joined him, Lydia.” Kitty said.

“I wish to talk about Mr. Crown. We can talk about Mr. Hawthorne any other day- “

“Why must it always be about you? You are not engaged or being courted. This is not your moment, Lydia. As I was saying, Mama, Miss King said that the companions are investigators like Mr. Hawthorne and that- “

“Mr. Hawthorne is not handsome, Kitty. You must direct your attentions to gentleman that will make your heart swoon.” Lydia interrupted loudly.

Each gentleman turned their head toward the childish lady, censure plain as day lingering on the tips of restrained tongues. Mr. Bennet chuckled and indulged more in his drink much to Mr. Archwood’s disappointment and Mr. Darcy’s annoyance.

“Be quiet, Lydia.”

“La.” Lydia stuck her tongue out.

Mr. Brook frowned. Mary cleared her throat, ignored by the bickering sisters determined to have their voices heard.

“Mr. Bennet?” Mr. Archwood said pointedly.

Catching his breath and swimming through the buzz properly overtaking him, Mr. Bennet leaned forward in his chair, an extra from another room in the home, and gestured with his free hand. “Girls, we are not at home, nor is your bickering over young men acceptable. Neither gentleman is worth your concern or emotions and you should rest your hearts for a better opportunity.”

Mr. Bingley paced behind Jane, Jane’s expression flattening into dismay. What started as a wonderful afternoon now turned into a nightmare beyond the elder sister’s estimations. Mr. Darcy fractured his attentions until he mutely centered them back into himself and simply observed everyone with outward mild interest.

On the verge of tears, Kitty breathed erratically before removing herself to the veranda. Lydia’s smugness tainted the previous promising start to a beautiful acquaintance.

“Excuse me, Mama.” Jane stood and hovered at Lydia’s side. “Lydia, join me in the corridor, please.” A stiffness eradicated any pleasantries she might have traded earlier.

“I want to stay here.” Lydia whined.

Jane looped her arm around Lydia’s and hauled her up. She glanced at her father, disappointment twisting her pretty visage. Elizabeth inhaled and exhaled, relaxing under the brief touch of a hand on her shoulder. Pouting, Lydia’s complaints disappeared into the corridor. Mr. Archwood cocked his ear for a second time, more eager for this scolding than the last.

Mr. Cull sped up the current selection, fingers dancing as gracefully as the party fell apart.

“ _Disgraceful, thoughtless-_ “

“ _I tire of your criticism, Jane. You are not perfect. You do not love Mr. Bingley_.”

“ _My heart is not your concern, Lydia. It never was. It never will be. You are acting out because you are not the center of attention. It must stop before you endanger me, Lizzy, Mary, Kitty…Please_.”

“ _But what am I doing wrong, Jane? Kitty is just as much at fault. She spoke of Mr. Hawthorne, not I_.”

“ _And you proceeded to act like a bitter child fighting over dolls_!”

“ _Do not yell at me_.”

“ _Go home, Lydia_.”

“ _How can I when I rode in the carriage? There is nothing you can do. It is a party, and I am a guest_.”

A long silence followed. “ _You are no longer welcome here, Lydia_.”

Minutes later, after Mr. Archwood sympathized with the distressed elder lady, Jane re-entered in a near perfect mask of happiness.

Lydia pranced in after her, none the worse. Mrs. Bennet motioned her to sit next to her while Mr. Bingley preyed upon Mr. Cull’s expertise and suggested that it was time for dinner. Speeding up the piece, Mr. Cull obliged. He bowed to each person individually and joined his patrons at the dinner table eager to rest his fingers and mind.

“I trust you are enjoying yourself, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Archwood asked of her while her younger sisters glared at each other over a plate of sliced pork covered in a white sauce.

Elizabeth dabbed at her mouth and bobbed her head. “If present company were better behaved, I would have enjoyed it exceedingly, sir.”

“That is quite severe of your sister, Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet paused his consumption of the well-cooked meat and stared at her curiously, as if she were out of character and not Lydia. “It was a well hosted party, and I congratulate Mr. Archwood and his musician. A most talented performance, sir. Better than my daughter, though she is a most capable on the pianoforte.” He nodded in acknowledgment to a mortified Mary. 

“I prefer a lively dance, especially when a ball or assembly is in want of gentlemen willing to dance.” Elizabeth glanced toward Mary and Mr. Brook, relieved to spot an unaffected man and woman entranced with each other. “It is usually when a lady wants to dance most.”

“When a ball is in want of gentlemen dancers.” Her father mocked.

She cringed from the self-importance dripping from his statement and pushed around the fatty deposits on her plate. Her eyes darted around the table in search of support.

Mr. Archwood cleared his throat and motioned for the servants to clear the plates and present the next course. Mary flushed as soon as Mr. Brook insisted on portioning out her plate of sweets. Lydia awed and Kitty sighed happily at the sight of a smitten man fawning over their older sister. Jane’s romantic attachment to Mr. Bingley no longer attracted their envy. Lydia declared that everyone loved Jane, therefore Jane’s attachments bored her – on many occasions. Kitty admired the wealth but held no interest in Jane’s happiness. Who married who mattered little to her. Kitty just wanted someone to love her for her, something Lydia mocked on any given whim to feel superior. Elizabeth observed it play out over the years with dreaded predictability and little encouragement from their mother to ‘support each other’. Mary’s courtship by the handsome Mr. Brook captivated the jealous need to be the center of attention, and thusly Lydia wanted Mr. Brook more than she wanted Mr. Darcy.

“I will be living here for the next six years, Mr. Bennet. I will be hosting a ball once a year to commemorate the anniversary of my arrival.” Mr. Archwood announced without warning.

Lydia squealed, hurting Kitty’s ears and yanking Mrs. Bennet from her pit of blissful ignorance.

“A ball! Oh, think of the gentlemen that will be present. Enough gentlemen to dance with all of us, Lizzy, and you Kitty.” Lydia ribbed her.

Kitty glowered at Lydia and gladly helped herself to the last course.

Mr. Archwood’s expression stayed bright and cheerful, unaffected by the wild outburst. “Yes. My wife will be most pleased to learn the neighbors are blessed with daughters, for she prefers to hear their delightful musical talent and gawk at their ability to draw and paint.”

“Wife? She is most fortunate, Sir.” Mrs. Bennet finished her wine and cocked a brow toward her husband. “Will she call upon us often?”

“Often, yes. She may even request your daughters’ company when she travels to London.”

Lydia and Kitty muted their sisterly squabble in favor of this new information. Mrs. Bennet floundered for words, and Jane bowed her head. Mary clutched Mr. Brook’s arm in fear of the pending reaction. Elizabeth inhaled.

Mr. Bennet chuckled. “No, Mrs. Bennet. Our daughters will stay in Hertfordshire, far from London.” He bowed his head to Mr. Archwood. “I am certain your wife is of proper character, but I see no reason for my daughters to leave Hertfordshire. They will find proper husbands in their own time on familiar grounds.”

“But papa- “

“Lydia, child, no.” Mr. Bennet shook a finger at her, and she pouted.

Elizabeth feared that the tears may start soon if their father pressed onward.

A cruel glint entered her little sister’s eye and she feared something else soon to take place. “Will Lizzy play the pianoforte for us this evening, Papa?”

“Lydia, you must not volunteer people to play.” Jane said, palm flat to the dining table. “It is rude.”

They locked eyes. “But I wish to hear Lizzy play.”

Mr. Archwood turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth will not be able to play for you this evening. We, at Netherfield Park, have decided to end the festivities after this meal.” He smiled, a tightness to the lines on his face and clasping of his hands.

A primal darkness in his eyes disturbed the lady.

Sighing in relief, Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s gaze and allowed herself to relax. Another day she might make a fool of herself, but tonight…tonight Lydia demolished any hope of them marrying well outside of Jane and Mary. It pained her, but unless someone stopped Lydia now, she’d destroy her future in a swift stroke of ill-timed rashness.

Jane’s mask fell after the carriage doors shut in their occupants. “I am disowning her, Lizzy.” She announced to the current party of vampires. “From this moment forward, I do not know of my sister Lydia Bennet.”

“That is a rash decision, Jane.” Elizabeth sighed.

Tonight, she rationalized, was a severe break in etiquette and acceptable behavior. It almost justified the disowning, but Elizabeth wanted to protect the family ties more than penalize the foolish, foolish young girl.

“I do not care.” Jane said firmly, entering first and closing herself in her room.

Standing alone with the immortals, Elizabeth sighed. Shoulders sagged; she clutched her hands in resignation. “I will visit my family tomorrow, Mr. Archwood. I apologize for their behavior tonight.”

“It is most unfortunate but no reflection on you or your sisters. To include Miss Catherine.” Mr. Archwood reassured her.

Her lips twitched into a half-hearted smile. Eyes cast downward, Elizabeth sincerely prayed that whatever illness provoked Lydia’s behavior that it would remove itself from her being and the lady would repent in church. Her personal experience knew no such actions would take place, thus pressing the fact she would marry poorly out of necessity and not happiness or love.

Only after Elizabeth retired early claiming headache, Mr. Archwood requested that the gentleman see him in the morning for a personal discussion on how to handle the newest developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in possession of an xbox S now and will expect to be able to finish a ME:Andromeda fic I have posted on FFn. I also had some difficulty tying together some points and progressing the the plot in a manner I wanted. I will likely be posting 1 chapter a week this point out, day of posting varying on when it's completed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The damage from the party is confronted.

“Annabeth, what is your judgment of Jane Bennet?” Julian asked of his charge the following morning. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley shuffled about the smaller study until finding a position to station themselves. Bingley chose to lounge in the corner armchair while Darcy stood by the door.

The young charge, a lady who crossed paths with one of the moon-cursed and fell ill with the same ailment, smiled and bobbed her head. “She is too private, and I am too withdrawn to associate with her. While I am ‘out’ I am not as handsome as she, and she always seems so sad.”

Bingley’s lip twitched. Julian raised his palm in Bingley’s direction and motioned for Annabeth to continue. She glanced nervously in the direction of the impulsive young immortal.

“Her sister tries to cover for her sadness, but the pain…I can sense it.” Her brows pinched together. “I do not know how to describe the manner in which I know. Perhaps it is my raising in London among ladies of wealth that I know how to read her. Or perhaps I can smell something different. I do not know. But she is not happy, sir. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is exceedingly happy, however.”

Bingley opened his mouth and Darcy cleared his throat. A ‘not now’ glance passed between the gentlemen. His visage twisted into a pained expression of mashed frustration.

“And your opinion of Elizabeth Bennet?” Julian prodded.

She shrugged. “Likeable. Lively. The busy sort. Generally agreeable. If Mr. Darcy wished to pursue her attentions, she would not embarrass him, I am certain.”

Darcy almost defended himself. A smirk briefly touched Julian’s face before it disappeared into nothingness and the elder resumed his position by the window. “And your opinion on your betrothed, Charles?” He asked next, body half turned to his present family. “Is she sad as Annabeth claims?”

Bingley’s face tightened, an anger present in his eyes that disturbed Anna and forced Darcy to position himself next to the lady.

“No. She is private, but not sad.”

“Are you certain? You may have offered too soon.”

“I refuse to believe that she is sad. She has no reason to be sad. Such beauty can not be sad. It is impossible.”

Annabeth sighed. “Are all gentlemen this naïve?”

Julian chuckled. “In Mr. Bingley’s instance, I believe naivete is his dominant trait.”

“That is cruel, sir.”

“Hardly, Annabeth, hardly.” Julian collected himself and faced Darcy, staunchly guarding the young lady from the offending young Englishman. “And your view, Fitzwilliam?”

The man composed himself, careful to maintain his well-crafted reputation, and crossed his arms. “I have doubts that Jane Bennet wishes to be made into an immortal. We should reaffirm that is her desire before we make arrangements that are unable to be reversed. Do not glare at me, Charles. I do not wish to see a mortal forced into a long life. We know full well the consequences of that, Julian.” The men nodded at each other; the undercurrent left unexplored.

“Last words, Charles?” Julian asked.

Pure anger and denial dominated the fortunate socialite. “I do not, for one moment, believe that Jane Bennet is sad or forced into this union.”

“Then you do not object if we investigate these suspicions.” Julian announced to the room firmly. “Annabeth, thank you for escaping your sitting room.”

She bowed her head to her ‘father’ figure and exited the second study intent on finishing her current masterpiece of a sketch.

“And how will you investigate this?” Darcy asked minutes after Bingley excused himself.

Julian looked Darcy in the eye. “Invite Elizabeth Bennet to the library immediately. If Jane Bennet does not wish to be made an immortal, we will not force her to join the family. If I am forced to separate Charles from the family, I will. I hope it does not reach that point.” He breathed deeply and allowed his exhaustion with the entire affair to show. “I am mature enough to admit that you are correct about the ill will that could result from his impulsivity, Fitzwilliam. However, no harm has been inflicted as of yet. We must not judge his young emotions.”

“He is not young, Julian.” Darcy argued. “He is six and twenty. A grown man who should- “

“I understand your concerns. I am much older than you. I have seen civilizations rise and fall. Often because of foolish young men like Charles Bingley and foolish young women like Lydia Bennet.”

“As well as the greed of Mrs. Bennet.” Darcy mumbled.

They nodded to each other in understanding, and Fitzwilliam Darcy tracked down Elizabeth to the music room under the watchful eye of Mr. Cull and the company of Miss Long. “Pardon me, but I must retrieve Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy announced to the casual party discussing musical notes and melodies immigrating from Scotland and Ireland.

Elizabeth looked up from the keys. “May I ask why?”

He inwardly sighed. “Mr. Archwood wishes to discuss your travel plans with the Gardiners.”

She motioned for Miss Long to take over and cheerfully ushered toward the gentleman. Mr. Cull excused himself, claiming a need of fresh tea, and abandoned Miss Long temporarily at the pianoforte.

They walked toward the library, Darcy tempted to warn her. They arrived before the nerve rose to the occasion and he bowed his way out of the confrontation ready to soothe ruffled feathers afterwards.

Already in the library, Julian motioned for her to have a seat on the settee. “Forgive me, but I wanted to speak with you about your sister.” He motioned Darcy back into the room with a finger shake. Reluctantly the gentleman closed the door behind him trapping Elizabeth in the library with both immortals.

She glanced between the two apprehensively.

“Fear not. No harm will come to her, nor has it been committed against her.” Julian said, his ease firmly covering his doubts. “Forgive us, but immortality is a burden and we must be certain she is sincerely wishing to join our family. I hope you will not fault us for believing she is only present because of your parents’ pressuring.”

Her face fell and heart sank. Gut twisting, Elizabeth nodded and dug her fingers into her skirt.

They said nothing.

The silence mounted until it pushed her into the proverbial floor.

Finally braving the answer, Elizabeth Bennet busied her hands by bunching her skirt in her hands repeatedly. “Forgive me, sir, but I can not speak for her or her heart. I can only offer witness testimony that she accepted his proposal at no urging of my mother or father. I admit my mother is overzealous and tactless but no different than any other mother in Meryton.”

“Of course. We are not naïve of the reality.” Julian seated himself in his armchair and granted her the safe space she needed. “You realize the gravity of the change your sister will undertake at the end of this month?”

She nodded.

“I am speaking with you because you have read our laws. You know to change one against their will is an offense worthy of death, and I as the leader of this coven will not permit my childe to harm another and be sentenced to death. I do not wish to witness Mr. Bingley’s demise, nor do you wish to witness your sister’s unhappiness.”

“I can not satisfactorily answer, sir. I understand.” She nodded to Mr. Darcy, forgiving him for lying to her. She doubted her sister as well, and while she couldn’t directly blame her mother for Jane being present at Netherfield, she indirectly blamed their entire family for her sister’s loss of self. “I understand the reason you seek these answers, and I wish to help you, but I must protect my sister as well. She is private, more so recently.”

Irritation crossed Julian’s face.

“I am sorry.”

“Do not be sorry, Miss Bennet. We are only attempting to keep your family safe and well.” Julian shifted in the armchair and tapped his fingers in repetitive motion. “It is a taxing imperative we follow to ensure that society does not turn against us.”

Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy. “You must have an opinion as well.”

Stiffening under her scrutiny, Fitzwilliam Darcy prepared himself for the inevitable hatred. “I only wish to protect my family and reputation, Miss Bennet. No ill will is directed to individuals or families.”

She sighed. “If you have doubts, you must speak to my father. He may speak with Jane, but we are nearing the end of a fortnight, and Jane is committed to the engagement. She made her decision and she is following it.”

“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I pray you do not think less of us.”

“I do not. I appreciate your concern. I apologize for Lydia’s behavior- “Color rushed to Elizabeth’s cheeks and her fidgeting doubled.

They assured her that she did not need to worry about her younger sisters’ behavior at the party and promised her they would not upset Jane. Leaving the library troubled by the implications, Elizabeth returned to the music room and the easy company of Mr. Cull, Miss Long, and a maid dusting the window frames.

In the library, the gentlemen decided among themselves that Julian would confront Mr. Bennet and that the carriage should be made available to Elizabeth Bennet now rather than after noon as originally planned. Julian would ride by horseback to Longbourn the following day, providing the 24 hours that he needed to relax and truly decide how he felt about Jane Bennet becoming one of them and about the lady herself.

Guilt-ridden and left to his own devices, Fitzwilliam Darcy chose to avoid it by writing a letter to his sister and cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Wrapped up in the letter, he never noticed Bingley edge his door open to spy on him or the retreating footsteps exiting the home through a servants’ entrance to escape to the comforts of an adoring Meryton that only saw him enlightened and worthy of limitless admiration.

Feeling a draft, Darcy glared at his door as if it opened on his own and tapped it shut with his pointer finger, smugly embracing his supernatural strength.

The satisfying click returned him to his desk where his beautifully handwritten letter drifted off into talk of the children, the husband, the current rumors milling around the ballrooms, and her general happiness at the given moment in life. His letter to Richard Fitzwilliam recounted the chain of events since he arrived in Hertfordshire and asked if the investigators tried speaking to him. He paused his communications efforts to dwell on George Wickham, determined that he serviced society by effectively removing a threat to English society from the visiting rooms of vulnerable young ladies. Finishing the letter with the report that Mr. Hawthorne, a reputed investigator who respected the privacy of the supernatural until needing to question the target of the investigation, and two companions resided in Meryton, he signed off and wondered if he would perish by the hands of these investigators determined to uproot the Archwood Coven.

Handing the letters off to a servant to deliver to a postmaster with payment upfront for the delivery, he once again crossed paths with Elizabeth.

“Miss Bennet.” He bowed his head to her.

“Mr. Darcy.” She acknowledged without a hint of coldness or anger.

Heart easy, he continued with his daily routine – a walk through the garden and around the house with a hound one of the farmers permitted them to care for.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth goes to Longbourn to tell her mother Lydia is disowned by Jane.

Elizabeth visited her family at Longbourn, intercepting her aunt and cousins in route. Arriving at Longbourn and gushing about Netherfield and its most welcoming party, Elizabeth surprised and encouraged her aunt to probe further into a most delightful subject, especially for the Bennets and Philips of Hertfordshire County.

“You are glowing, Lizzy. I pray Jane is as happy as you are now. Truly angelic.” Aunt Philip touched her cheek and kissed her forehead before tucking Elizabeth’s around hers. “Mrs. Hill, how high are Lydia’s spirits?”

“High, Mrs. Philip.” Mrs. Hill answered, bowing her head to all of them.

Elizabeth smiled at her younger cousins, pleased to see fresh faces at Longbourn, although she wondered if Charlotte would be permitted to visit Netherfield and call upon them. Maria Lucas’s recent heartbreak and broken engagement – a tragic death of her betrothed a week before their marriage resulting in the exile from Brighton and the resultant isolation from company – shouldn’t impact her sister or the Lucas family much longer.

She yearned to speak with Charlotte of her innermost thoughts. Mr. Darcy transformed from an uptight, introvert who softened under closer inspection. His handsome face and figure merely convinced her stubborn admiration to step down from the impossible pedestal she created for gentleman.

“Excellent. I look forward to giving her more reason to be pleased.” Aunt Philip announced and lead Elizabeth into Longbourn. The train of younger cousins bickered over petty things – shoe polish being hogged, dresses swapping wardrobes without permission, friends switching loyalties (or so one claimed loudly against the protest of the other), and their expectations as they near the age they are ‘out’.

“Do not rush your lives.” Elizabeth advised the girls as Mrs. Hill showed them into the drawing room. “You are young and should enjoy your youth.”

“Lizzy, you are not a spinster as of yet.” Cousin Miriam teased.

“True, but I am merely telling you to enjoy your time before you must marry because your family will be unable to support you.” Elizabeth sighed. An explosion of Kitty and Lydia arguing about ribbons interrupted her sage message. She stepped aside to allow Miriam, Priscilla, Adam, and Ernest to enter first. She pat each on the shoulder, apprehension creeping on her.

Rounding the corner, she breathed easier upon spotting her parents together in the room steadfastly ignoring the infamous younger sisters and Mary reviewing what looked like new sheet music. The crisp paper and undamaged corners swelled Elizabeth’s heart, as she suspected the source of the new music. Hopefully Mr. Brook never forgot how loving and wonderful Mary could be and invested time in her instead of material gifts. Slightly jealous of the gift, Elizabeth knew she would find someone like Mr. Brook.

“It is mine! You always take what is mine!” Kitty shouted, holding firmly on the bonnet Lydia tried to yank away.

Lydia stuck her tongue out. “You are too plain to look well in it.”

“Mama!”

“Just give her the bonnet, Kit. She’ll give it back in an hour.” Mrs. Bennet answered dismissively.

“Mama!” Kitty burst into tears and threw all her weight into the pull. Lydia bent over the edge of the card table and the bonnet inched toward until all that Lydia grasped was the lip. With one burst of rage, Kitty freed her bonnet and shoved the chair back hastily. Lydia moaned about her stomach, dismissed by their mother as easily as Kitty was, and turned her attention to Priscilla, the one cousin closest to her age.

Elizabeth caught Kitty in a hug and squeezed. Kitty relaxed and stayed in her elder sister’s arms longer than accustomed. Rubbing her sister’s back, Elizabeth smiled at her father, who only glanced up from his book to spy the added party now crowding the drawing room. “Would you like to walk with me, Kit?” She asked, certain she didn’t want to tolerate the mixed company.

Nodding, Kitty wiped away tears. “Allow me to dress first.”

Stepping aside, Elizabeth made eye contact with a smug Lydia. Sometimes she wondered if Lydia thrived on making Kitty cry. The cruelty of the youngest Bennet bewildered Elizabeth. They were different people with different interests, and if the younger were older they too would be more attractive to the opposite sex, but none of them were as cruel or selfish as Lydia. Mrs. Bennet gave up on corralling them years ago, but it was no excuse for refusing to act like a parent. Jane and Elizabeth assumed that role once they were ten, back when Lydia acted more reasonably.

Standing in the vestibule, Elizabeth waited and listened to her cousins and sisters interact while her mother and aunt prattled about Meryton’s ladies and rising gentlemen. None of it interested her.

Kitty joined her moments later and hurried for the lane they played on as children and walked often as they aged.

Allowing the silence to dominate, they slowed their pace to a crawl and basked in the emptiness. “Are you here because of the party, Lizzy?” Kitty finally asked.

“Not entirely.” Elizabeth admitted. “I wanted to visit because the company of several gentlemen and one lady is stifling, although Miss Long visiting is a relief from the same stilted conversations.”

Kitty cocked her head at the mention of Miss Long. “She is Miss King’s source.”

“Perfectly acceptable, Kit. We are all curious about the Archwood Coven. I know nothing of Mr. Hawthorne. Could you tell me more about him?”

“He is handsome enough, not tempting enough for Lydia. Is that an insult?” Kitty laughed.

Elizabeth smiled. Lydia gravitated to any gentleman upon knowledge he newly entered Meryton and Hertfordshire. For Mr. Hawthorne to be rejected by the neediest of ladies best served his reputation. The gentleman should count his lucky stars to not dodge her sister’s pitiful attempts for attention.

“He was investigating the Archwood Coven, but Mama told him we should not worry. After he left, Papa stated that men like him were the reason that innocent gentlemen needed to defend their honor. I do not know what Papa referred to, but I know it has to do with the Archwood Coven. Please be careful, Lizzy. They are immortals, even if they are civilized.”

“I know, Kit.”

“I worry for you.”

“And I for you. Lydia is acting worse than before. Why?”

They paused at the bend of the land and gazed upon the land their family owned. Homes dotted amid fenced off fields and outlined roads in the middle of being renovated.

Kitty leaned on Elizabeth. “Lydia is jealous.”

“Of what?” Charles Bingley attracted people like flies to a freshly manured field, but on closer inspection, he failed as a confidante and companion in her humble opinion. Jane begged for his attentions, and he rejected the suggestions left and right. Indeed, Elizabeth doubted his desire to marry Jane as they doubted Jane’s desire to marry him. It appeared to be a ruthless, cynical cycle damaging to all parties involved.

Fiddling with her hands, Kitty swallowed hard. “I think she’s afraid of being forgotten or overlooked. The wealth is secondary to her. She’s pursuing the fame, the attention, but we know this.” She waved her hand in the air and shook her head. A pained expression affected her face, twisting away the prettiness that Kitty lorded over Lydia. “I wish she moved to London or with our distant cousins.”

“You mean the Collins?”

“I know that Mr. Collins will inherit Longbourn, but I do not fault him for it.” Kitty walked back toward the house. “Lydia needs help. She is too spoiled to change, and I only wish she’d stop acting like a child.”

They grimly marched back expecting to be assaulted with questions or antics that would draw critical attention from outsiders.

Curbing away from the front door, they proceeded to walk around the house and along the road to the nearest fields to avoid further interaction. Elizabeth decided to accept the backlash and warn Kitty first.

“Jane disowned Lydia, and Lydia is no longer permitted to visit Netherfield. She was serious.”

“I am not surprised. Jane is trying hard to escape Longbourn and Mr. Bingley is the perfect hero.” Elizabeth scoffed. “Handsome, wealthy, and amiable.”

Checking her own doubts as to not jade Kitty’s views and opinions, Elizabeth pretended to be less irritated with the entire situation. “I must tell Mama, but she will blame it on me.”

“I will support you, Lizzy.” Kitty assured.

They glanced back at the house skeptically.

“But for good measure we must at least walk further before returning. Our Aunt will carry the news to Meryton, and it will inevitably be known by others.”

The truth of the statement crushed any fledgling hopes for a pleasant day. Trudging along contented with their peace, the pair forgot about the demands of their family and put themselves first.

In the drawing room notably absent of Elizabeth and Kitty, the former Gardiners gossiped freely while Lydia spearheaded a card game with her cousins. Mary played the pianoforte, practicing her tonal scale with more effort than previous.

“Quite sad to hear that Miss King may be moving to the North, but her 10,000 pounds is too much of a distraction from the more deserving ladies, to be certain.” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “Like my Lydia. A precious, energetic child who could please any gentleman if he were to excuse her youthful rashness.”

“Darling, Lydia is not of the age that marrying her is respectable.” Mr. Bennet cut in. “Think of Kitty instead. She is two years older and more mature.”

“She cries too much, Mr. Bennet. A husband does not desire a wife is always in tears.”

“You are being too cruel to your own daughter, sister.”

“Nonsense. A child must face the truth sometimes.” Mrs. Bennet brushed off the censure and turned her critical eye on her nephews and nieces. “Your daughters are well dressed. Has Mr. Archwood consulted with your husband?”

Mrs. Philip inhaled sharply. “He is permitted to spoil our children, as Mr. Bennet spoils my nieces.”

“Yes, but the dresses are of better quality- “

“I object to your criticism. Are you stating my husband does not deserve his wealth or freedom in spending it as he chooses?”

“I did not say that, sister!” Mrs. Bennet burst. “I only meant they are maturing handsomely.”

Mrs. Philip eyed up her younger sister before squaring her shoulders. “Yes, they are. Most handsomely. Tales have been shared that Lydia has disgraced herself at Netherfield. Is that true?”

“Disgraced? What is a little argument but hearty disagreement?” Mrs. Bennet shook her head.

The card game paused, and Lydia pouted. “It wasn’t my fault. Kitty wanted to talk about Mr. Hawthorne, and I wanted to talk about someone else and no one would listen to me.” Mr. Bennet closed his book with a loud thump and exited the room without a word. Mrs. Hill entered moments later with refreshments to distract the troublemakers.

Mrs. Philip shook a finger. “Even if you disagree with the rumor, Mrs. Long and Mrs. Crown and Mrs. Grace are already speaking ill of Lydia and forbidding their daughters of the association with Kitty and Lydia. It is unfair to cast the shadow onto Kitty when it is Lydia who is drawing the infamy.” Mrs. Bennet scowled.

A quiet standoff boiled between the siblings before it quelled, and they pressed onto a new topic – talk of Mr. Hawthorne and his growing number of comrades insistent on investigating immortals in Hertfordshire and the immediate surrounding counties. Elizabeth and Kitty returned to Ernest cleaning the table of loot and Priscilla moping about Adam refusing to give her the last meager chips to fight the ‘good fight’ against Ernest.

“Elizabeth, how was the walk?” Mrs. Philip asked.

“Exceptionally refreshing.” She answered cheerfully, noting the casual distance between her aunt and mother. “Mama, I must have a word with you and Papa after Aunt leaves.” She nodded to Lydia as a hint before making herself comfortable. “Kitty has a headache and will be resting for a spell.”

A thin line replaced Mrs. Bennet’s smile, and Mrs. Philip obliged Elizabeth’s request after Adam and Lydia argued about the proper mixing of company and dances – the former relying on his schooling and the latter on her self-indulgent views and personal experiences.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks has passed and Mrs. Ariti arrives.

The next several days passed happily for Jane and Elizabeth. Miss Long, Miss Grace, the sister Harringtons, and Miss Crown called upon the Bennet sisters in earnest endeavor to glean more gossip and sus out whether Jane sincerely wished to marry Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy paid sparse compliments to each lady while Mr. Bingley charmed everyone with his plays. Mr. Archwood counted the last few days until the arrival of his wife and her current traveling companion. The tension in the house peaked at the dinner the night prior to the arrival of Selene Ariti.

“Miss Bennet.” Mr. Archwood addressed Jane over dessert. “Tomorrow my wife arrives. She’s a woman of strong opinions, not unlike Miss Elizabeth.”

“A kindred soul, Lizzy.” Jane joked.

Elizabeth laughed. “I am pleased to finally meet her.”

Mr. Darcy raised his cup to the table. “I propose a toast to the clan and its mortal ties.”

“To the beautiful Miss Jane Bennet and the adventure she introduces into my immortal path.” Mr. Bingley nodded to Jane. Jane bowed her head in his direction, willingly joining in the sentimental pool. “To family.”

“To family.” Elizabeth almost teared up.

Mr. Archwood silently raised his cup to theirs.

Turning in her seat, Elizabeth paused and then spoke confidently. “Is she familiar with England, Sir?” She asked over Jane’s severe side glance.

“As familiar as she wishes to be, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Is she acquainted with our customs and traditions?”

“Lizzy, I am certain Mrs. Ariti is well aware of our society’s expectations.” Jane scolded.

Elizabeth sighed. She tired of the defensive Jane and wanted the happy, carefree Jane back. “I do not wish to make a wrong impression and she is not native to our homeland. We know little about her homeland, and I do not want – “

Mr. Bingley glanced to Mr. Darcy. The gentleman shrugged.

“-to insult her unknowingly. As I am sure she would not want to insult us.” Elizabeth finished smoothly. A disgruntled Jane pursed her lips and dropped the argument. “It is our duty to be a kind neighbor.”

“I appreciate your support, Miss Elizabeth, but to my knowledge she is well educated on English society.” Mr. Archwood bowed his head respectfully and handed a crumb cluttered plate to a waiting servant. “My Selene has waited two weeks to meet Miss Jane Bennet and will begin to teach her about immortal society.”

Jane rearranged the silverware.

“Jane will impress her, I am certain.” Mr. Bingley boasted.

More servants cleared the table, avoiding the skittish Jane and proud Mr. Bingley – as if Jane’s beauty and reputation were his.

A strained smile revealed an exhausted Jane. Elizabeth sympathized and worried the stress might cause her to snap. She fought the battle for reputation and heart, with reputation leagues ahead of heart in the current warfare.

“Jane, if you wish, I can return home, and Kitty can stay with you for the last two weeks.” Elizabeth volunteered, thinking of Lydia’s cruelty and lack of concern on her parents behalf.

“I am sure you are as welcome here as you were before, Lizzy. There is no need for you to return home until I am married.” Jane clutched Elizabeth’s hand tightly. “You will not be in the way.”

“I feel as if I am. This is your future, not mine.”

“Truly, Lizzy- “

“Mr. Archwood, I am confident the company of Kitty will be better for Jane. Lydia, bless her spirits, needs a firmer hand and our parents refuse to reign her in.” She turned to Mr. Darcy. “Your company has been most sane, and I value our conversations, and I assure you Kitty is sound of mind.”

Jane death gripped her sister’s hand.

Flowing with the impromptu decision, Mr. Darcy nodded. “I trust your guidance and your sister’s placement here will nullify the wildness of a wayward soul.” He pressed his hands together and Elizabeth wondered if she would see him again. A part of her died at the idea of separating but they were from different worlds and she ought to remember that.

Mr. Archwood nodded along, his expression gradually shifting to an open cheerfulness.

“Your thoughts, Mr. Archwood?” Jane pleaded.

He folded his hands on his lap. “It is an acceptable alteration. Miss Boording and Miss Catherine Bennet are closer in age, and I believe it a most beneficial connection for the shy lady. Miss Elizabeth is welcome at Netherfield, a proper lure to draw Mr. Darcy from his letters and schedule.”

Mr. Bingley slapped Mr. Darcy’s shoulder. Shrugging off the hand, Mr. Darcy maintained his composure. Elizabeth cleared her throat and accidentally met the alluring, probing gaze. A fire bloomed in her chest.

“I will arrange for a carriage to return you to Longbourn tomorrow at noon if you wish.” Mr. Archwood volunteered.

Agreeing to the plan, Elizabeth expressed the desire to meet Mrs. Ariti and everyone agreed that Mrs. Ariti would call on Longbourn often. Jane nearly crushed Elizabeth’s hand and at parting, the elder sister claimed headache and retired to bed early. Elizabeth read quietly until her eyelids hurt and she faced the monster summoned in an effort to force Jace on her own two feet.

Eager to meet the mythical Selene Ariti, she slept poorly and packed her trunk with no regrets in the following morning. A short missive to Longbourn informed her mother that she needed to return and requested Kitty replace her at Netherfield Park. Expecting a cold reception, Elizabeth braced for the worst.

A lonely breakfast delivered to her room along with a book to replace the current read, and she hoped Jane did not disown her as well. She suspected that Jane acted skittish out of fear that Mr. Bingley would call the wedding off at the slightest marring of her character, which was why she needed to return to Longbourn and try to offer Kitty a chance to escape Lydia. Miss Boording may enjoy her sister’s company – she did not know.

Dreading the self-imposed sentence, her thoughts and imagination traveled to the mysterious Selene Ariti, spoken of with reverence and respect that Elizabeth doubted Mr. Archwood would ever speak ill of his beloved. She answered the knocking, wanting it to be Jane and confronted by Miss Boording herself.

“Pardon me, Miss Bennet, but I wished to thank you for staying with us for two weeks.”

Stepping aside, she allowed the younger lady into the room. “It has been my pleasure.”

Bowing her head, Miss Boording clasped her hands at her waist and stood with her feet pressed together. Cheeks flaming red, she cleared her throat and glanced around the orderly room cleaned daily by a servant. “I trust you were treated well?”

“Yes, although I think Mr. Bingley treats Jane poorly. She is to marry him soon and he only spares parts of the day for her. Not very gentlemanly of him at all.” She seated herself on the end of the bed and motioned for Miss Boording to join her – almost like friends would sit together. “What do you know of Mr. Bingley? All I have learned these two weeks is that he prefers Vingt-et-un, loves plays, and enjoys all company as long as it is lively or pretty.”

Nervous laughter slipped from the introverted lady.

“I’ve pinned his character, haven’t I?”

Miss Boording nodded. “Flighty but he has moments of intelligence that distracts from his young age. He does care for Jane, but in his mind…he believes that there will be time after the transformation to bond with her. He fails to understand one must be wooed and marriage is only the continuation of the heart’s or mind’s determinations.”

“And society’s pressures.” Elizabeth added solemnly. “If we do not marry – oh! The world will cease and all of society will gasp!”

“I could not put it better myself, Miss Bennet. Truly, from my time in London, I am relieved to live in the countryside. People are more genuine in their own home.”

“And those that do live in London?”

“Naturally, they are constantly on their toes adapting to the ever revolving seasons of ladies and gentlemen selling their daughters and sons into marriage at-“ Elizabeth nodded along, disliking the idea of someone picking her dance partners for her as well as unfair judgment cast against her. Most people new to a setting are not expected to socially perform at their best. “Unlike yourself and Miss Jane Bennet. Meryton is your home. There are no expectations to fail.”

Elizabeth laughed at the ridiculous statement. Catching her breath, she genuinely smiled. “We – well everyone in the family except Mary, Jane and I – fail expectations quite often. It’s that the expectations lower each time it happens.”

“Will you miss the company of Mr. Darcy?”

“He is engaging, but I will have my family and friends to keep me company. Mr. Darcy will find someone new to amuse and entertain…in his own way.” Elizabeth pondered on the enigma that Mr. Darcy was and decided she liked him as a puzzle never quite figured out. There was always that last piece that didn’t fit or was missing to complete the report, and she loved the idea of the dangling mystery. Her poor heart would need it later in life when she was married and no longer in love with her husband – to fondly look back on better times where infatuation was as valid as a society approved marriage.

Miss Boording sighed. “You are as blind as he.”

“Surely you jest.”

“I do not. Clearly, he prefers your company, Miss Bennet, and it will pain him when you are absent.” Miss Boording grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed. “I will pray that you find each other again and one day become Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. What a dream that would be! You are perfect for one another. Trust me, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth blushed, thoughts running toward the forbidden.

“I will not hold you up. Mrs. Ariti will be arriving soon, and she will be most eager to meet you.” Miss Boording brightened considerably and excused herself to freshen up – perhaps change into another dress better fitting her happy mood.

Left alone once more, she busied herself with the book she borrowed from Mary. Fordyce bored her within two paragraphs, and she resigned the bedroom in favor the drawing room and its lighted open space. Jane shuffled about listlessly, standing by the window or leaning against the fireplace, before seating herself at the piano in the music room and plucking at keys in want of melody. Mr. Cull was in town and would not be back until dinner leaving them to fend for themselves until the lady of the day showed up – hopefully to knock Mr. Archwood off his feet.

Courage rose and fell, both on their feet at the announcement the carriage rolled up the lane.

Side by side they stood at the window overlooking the veranda and waited…

And waited…

A fine carriage befitting the finest of ladies clattered down the gravel, windy stretch toward the sweeping veranda and fine house. Hearts in their throats, Jane reached for Elizabeth’s hand and held it.

Whatever came after this, there was no turning back.

Jane swallowed hard and Elizabeth made peace with losing a sister to the immortal world. This was their future and embracing it was the only course of action left at their disposal.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth returns to Longbourn and Mrs. Ariti arrives at Netherfield

Julian Archwood leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back and a light in his eyes Elizabeth hadn’t witnessed before. The nervous energy calmed as a slender leg stepped down from the carriage. Unable to look away, Jane and Elizabeth watched a shapely woman blessed with natural curves descend from the carriage in men’s clothing of the finest material. Long, thick black hair piled high in a braided bun crowned her head, decorated with a pearl silver hair comb.

“Mrs. Ariti.” He said to the Bennet sisters. “My wife is the loveliest of ladies. A true half to my heart.”

Unable to look away from the scandalous attire choice for a lady, they nodded.

The gentleman who exited the carriage captured their complete attention. A man from the east, his brown eyes and black hair was tied back at the base of his neck in a ponytail. He wore a similar outfit to Mrs. Ariti, accented with pops of poppy whereas hers boasted pops of primrose.

“The gentleman is from a distant nation known as Japan.” He explained to them. “We have many traveling companions and acquaintances throughout the world.”

“You are blessed, sir.” Elizabeth said enviously. “Our society would be better if we met more worldly influences.”

“I admire your trail of thoughts, Miss Elizabeth.” Julian advanced toward his wife and swept her into his arms. They pressed their foreheads together and basked in the proximity of each other.

Jane nudged Elizabeth. “I will call upon you tomorrow, but please write me to tell me how Mama receives you and if Kitty will stay here in your absence.”

“Certainly, sister.” Elizabeth smiled, unable to look away from the mysterious strangers. “I know you do not want me to leave, but Lydia has become unbearable at home. Kitty needs rescued and Miss Boording needs a companion she can relate to.”

“I will miss you.”

“And I you.” They leaned on each other briefly.

Mr. Bingley cleared his throat and startled them. “I give you my word, Miss Elizabeth, that we will call upon you often. Mr. Darcy needs the stimulating conversation.”

A dirty look passed from Mr. Darcy to Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth breathed. The flames burned between them, but she could never have him as she wished. “I do not know what you allude to, sir.” Mr. Bingley just beamed and peered straight ahead as the trio of immortals approached the remaining half of the party.

Selene glanced over Jane and Elizabeth quickly before nodding to the gentleman guarding over the sisters. “When I heard Charles chose a bride, I thought I lost my hearing. I am in all shock to learn the accounts of your beauty is truth, Miss Bennet.” She held out her gloved hands to Jane. “And this must be the sister of equal beauty.” Elizabeth bowed her head.

“This is Elizabeth Bennet, ma’am.” Jane replied shyly.

“A strong, proud name. Your mother must praise your beauty to the…heavens?”

“Heavens, yes.” Elizabeth relaxed. She liked Mrs. Ariti. Aside from the odd choice of attire all of England would eat her alive for, she made Mr. Archwood glow. Her heart bloomed and she hoped Jane enjoyed her long life in this precious coven. It felt like family, a true home. Sometimes Longbourn felt more like a prison than a home, unlike the Coven and their open arms. “My mother is proud of us all. We have three more sisters.”

“Five daughters. Truly, truly blessed. Jane, I know I only just arrived, but I have your first lessons prepared for this evening.” She turned to her companion and motioned him forward. “Miss Bennets, this is my traveling companion and long-time friend, Saji Nagayasu. He does not speak English, but he is learning French and can speak it well enough to be understood.”

“We were not taught French.” Jane said.

“Mr. Nagayasu- “

Selene held up a finger. “Saji is his family name. Nagayasu is his given name. Mr. Saji, if you must.” Turning to her husband, she offered her arm.

“Your carriage will be prepared shortly, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Archwood assured her as he wrapped himself around his wife’s finger.

Saji Nagayasu bowed to them before following the elder couple into the home.

Elizabeth breathed. The tension lifted off her chest and she turned to discover Mr. Darcy a breath away. “Sir, may we walk in the garden one last time?” She asked.

He offered his arm to her. “It would please me to no end, Miss Bennet.”

Jane tugged Mr. Bingley along instead of submitting herself to the foreign company.

“She appears to be an interesting lady, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth approached the subject immediately. They entered the manicured hedges and the main walkthrough. “Her clothing is most flattering.”

He chuckled. “I should have warned you, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I enjoyed the surprise, Mr. Darcy, but Mama will be most scandalized, and my aunt will talk for ages. Won’t she, Jane?” Elizabeth turned her head and looked to her sister for support.

Jane clung to Mr. Bingley. “Do not involve our aunt in this, Lizzy. Meryton will not hold their tongues.”

“We can not hide it forever, Jane.”

“Regrettably.”

Elizabeth faced forward again, quite pleased with the surprise. For once Meryton would speak of someone other than them. She admit that Mrs. Ariti appeared beautiful in the clothing, and the contrast between primrose and black quite stunning. Daring! Bold. Just what London would approve of if they were less focused on the social standards being trampled recklessly by a worldly lady.

Mr. Darcy pat her arm. “Were you pleased with your stay?”

“Yes.”

“I will ensure that Miss Bennet calls on Longbourn tomorrow.” Mr. Darcy promised devoutly.

“I hope so, Mr. Darcy. My mother will be most displeased I am returning home early.” Elizabeth revealed. “Mother hoped that you would be lured by my beauty. We have displeased her, but an intelligent gentleman such as yourself has already seen through her schemes.”

Mr. Darcy exhaled. “A common scheme we are familiar with.”

“Exceedingly.” Mr. Bingley corroborated.

“I must apologize for her behavior. It is most…unacceptable.” Elizabeth sighed.

Mr. Bingley bowed his head to Jane and whispered something Elizabeth could not hear.

Feeling she ventured too far on what she thought to be a comfortable established ground, Elizabeth breathed deeply and allowed herself to be at peace with the world around her. They finished the walk-in silence, and when Elizabeth returned to the front of the veranda, servants carried her trunk to a waiting carriage as fine as the carriage Mrs. Ariti arrived in.

“Safe travels, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy wished her.

She heard the anguish and commiserated with him. She’d find someone like him – someone as honorable and respectable. One day.

Jane waved after her, and when they turned into blurs, Elizabeth wiped away the tears with her sleeve. Folding into the seat and her broken heart, she sniffled and steeled herself for the confrontation with her mother and father. Mrs. Hill stood outside on the doorstep waiting for her. Elizabeth instructed the driver to wait and approached the family’s hardy housekeeper.

Mrs. Hill bowed her head. “Miss Elizabeth.”

“Mama is upset?”

“She refuses to acknowledge your return and refuses to send Miss Catherine in your place.”

Elizabeth squared her shoulder. “So be it. I am not returning. Jane’s future awaits while mine is here until I meet the man I marry. Instruct a manservant to remove my trunk and carry it to my room. I will resolve this here and now.’

The door creaked and she entered a ghostly quiet vestibule. Shrieking caught her off guard as Lydia and Kitty shouted at each other upstairs over Kitty’s requested placement at Netherfield Park. Lydia’s pouting of it being unfair and Kitty’s gloating turned anger as they fought over whose bonnet was whose dominated the disturbing quiet.

“Feels like home.” She mumbled under her breath as she sought out her father’s study and knocked on it.

Her father opened the door and ushered her in. “I have missed you, Lizzy.”

He kissed her cheek. She hugged him and melted into the open affection, starved for a real connection. “I am glad to be home, Papa.”

Locking the door behind her, he moved to the window and clasped his hands behind his back. “Your mother is furious, but I am pleased to send Kitty in your place. She needs the change of company. Lydia has become unbearable and I know not how to curb her.” He faced her, the age lines on his face revealing his exhaustion with the world.

Saving her comments for herself, she made herself comfortable in a chair and considered him – pitied him – for the position he found himself in now. Had they cracked the whip and pulled in the reins when Lydia was younger, she might have been more manageable now. Alas, the opposite happened. Lydia turned into a spoiled brat, and Kitty suffered the most for it. Mary avoided the backlash from Lydia purely due to her disinterest in the busybody hobbies Lydia indulged in.

“Is Jane pleased with her betrothed? Mr. Archwood believed we forced her to accept the offer.”

Elizabeth’s heart sank. “She seems happier. Mrs. Ariti arrived today, and she will begin her lessons on immortals.”

“Two more weeks, she will marry, and they will leave for Scotland. I will miss Jane. As long as she is happy…”

“Papa, I am certain Jane will be exceedingly happy in time. She is nervous, wanting to please and not wanting to disturb the delicate natures of unfamiliar individuals.”

Her father chuckled. “Dear Jane, trying to make everyone happy. I recall telling her that it was impossible, but she insisted prayer and ladylike behavior would prove me wrong. I hope she does prove me wrong.” He seated himself and lounged. His gut protruded; years of neglect culminated into a portrait Mrs. Bennet cried about often.

Silence overtook them, and loud knocking at the door ripped it from them moments later.

“It is your mother. Are you prepared?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Unlock the door and face her. Best now than before.” Mr. Bennet resigned himself.

She cringed away from the door after removing the latch and stepped backward rapidly. Mrs. Bennet heaved into the room and pointed a fat finger at Elizabeth. “This is your fault. If they pull each other’s hair out, you’ll be to blame.”

“No, Mama. Lydia is the youngest- “

“I am the mother, not you. Learn your place, child.” Mrs. Bennet ordered her out of the study. “Make yourself useful to Mary before Mr. Brook loses interest in her.”

The door slammed shut locking Elizabeth out. Putting herself together, she permit the pain of her mother’s frail emotions. She chose this, she ought to face the guilt as well. Mounting the stairs, she paused halfway. Lydia’s whining turned into a full-blown tantrum and Kitty locked her out of their shared bedroom. Lydia kicked the door wildly and ceased after stubbing her toe.

“Calm yourself.” Mary scolded from the end of the corridor.

Lydia muttered something unladylike.

“God will frown upon this. Upon you.”

“Why don’t you flee to Mr. Brook? He’s the only person who would want you.” Lydia sniped.

Cresting the top, Elizabeth braced for the worst. “Hold your tongue. I do not care that Mama favors you. You are no lady. You’re a child. Kit, finish packing! The driver is waiting!” Meeting Mary’s gaze, Mary bowed her head in deference and steadfastly guarded Elizabeth from Lydia’s anger.

“I hate you.”

“No, you hate that you are not invited to Netherfield.” Elizabeth replied coolly. “Disappear. Now.”

Lydia’s face screwed up, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks before she ran down the stairs and to her mother’s waiting solace.

The bedroom door opened, and Kitty stood amid a mess of thrown clothing scattered between the floor and bed. “She tore it all out, Lizzy.”

Mary picked up undergarments and gowns, slinging each over her arm. “Something must be done, Lizzy.”

“Something will be done.” Elizabeth promised darkly. She nudged the door shut with her foot and aided Mary. Together they repacked Kitty’s trunk and escort the manservant to the carriage, Kitty using Mary as a shield from the glowering Lydia, who once again burst into tears after Kitty departed. Largely ignored by her mother and youngest sister, Elizabeth indulged Mary in her musical diversions and her father’s lighthearted jabs at Lydia’s childishness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Ariti scolds Jane and calls upon Longbourn.

Hours after Elizabeth left for Longbourn, a lavish dinner planned days in advance, and a strong case of nerves, Jane waited in her bedroom for Mrs. Ariti as requested at the dinner table. She paced back and forth, insecurities clawing at the manners drilled into her since a young age.

_Click._

“Your heartbeat gives you away, Miss Bennet.” A soft, predatorial voice drifted like a lullaby.

Jane turned quickly, hand over heart. “Forgive me. I was expecting a knock.”

Selene smiled toothily. “Julian tells me you are uncharacteristically troubled. We hypothesized it due to your fear of your family’s ridicule if Mr. Bingley rejected you. I will not adventure into the subject with you. You are but a child in a cruel, cruel world attempting to ensure your future. No one blames you for the actions you take.” She motioned for Jane to seat herself. “I have requested the gentlemen leave us alone this evening. We will suffer no interruptions.”

Her hands shook, unable to summon a defense. The elder hadn’t lied. Every word of it was true, and yet…she felt there was more to this illness that conquered her core serenity.

“Sit. I insist. We must review the most important laws. Regardless of his fleeting affections, the laws are in place to protect us. Between you and I, I oft wonder about his ability to think into the future. He inherited quite the fortune, and he is easy on the eyes – although I believe Julian superior to all others – for the less familiar with his character. He wears on you over the years. There’s a certain youthful charm to him that beckons to one’s younger days when they were not in a position of authority and only thought of their love interests and how to waste another day.”

Complying with the order, Jane seated herself and stared up at the self-reflecting elder. A beauty masked the monster the others hid. A hunger lingered in her eyes, an alertness to it unnerving Jane to the core of her mortal being.

A fang dominated grin and Selene crossed her arms. “You’re undeniably beautiful, but you have not attempted to learn our laws, unlike your sister. That must be remedied immediately, and I will not tolerate any excuses.” Seating herself next to Jane, she handed over the law book Elizabeth carried around during the last two weeks. Producing a copy of her own, she sighed. “This becomes old after the tenth time. Trust me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jane mumbled.

“The first law you must be aware of is consent. What it means is that you must fully consent to become an immortal. I must know here and now if you wish to become immortal. Being immortal and marrying Mr. Bingley are two separate realms. Immortals have married mortals before. There is no law preventing it.”

Jane opened the book to the first page. “I have chosen my future. I wish to live an immortal life with Mr. Bingley.”

“Why?” Selene demanded.

She sighed. “I can not explain it. I know it is meant to be. No one will believe me. I know that my family’s history will not shine favorably on me. I give you my words, Mrs. Ariti, I speak the truth.”

“And refusing to learn the laws or question anything about our homelife and supernatural culture?”

Jane fidgeted. “Elizabeth treads on toes with her-“

“You were concerned you might be sent home and embarrassed.” Selene surmised darkly. “Rest assured, the man is smitten with you and sees no fault with you. I am disappointed that you chose to remain ignorant of the future you claim to want.”

Jane paled under the criticism and bowed her head in shame.

A small hand rested on her back. “We will not send you home. Only you are able to send yourself home at this point.” Selene assured her. “Now, onto our law books. Law one is clear, yes?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“If consent is not gained, Mr. Bingley will face death.” Selene warned one last time. “We will soon find out how sheltered your raising has been. The supernatural community is much larger and complex than you realize. Than mortals realize.”

Swallowing hard again, Jane nodded. “I am ready and willing to learn, Ma’am.”

“Good girl. Tomorrow you’ll help Mr. Darcy realize his infatuation with your sister needs acted upon or he should end the teasing of emotions altogether. The forbidden attraction nonsense is foolish for a man of his age. Your sister is young and her heart untouched. She does not deserve to be toyed with in such a cruel manner.”

Deciding she’d rather infuriate her mother than Mrs. Ariti, Jane agreed to the scheme and they commenced with their introductory lessons on supernatural laws. The first ten pages covered the most prominent laws while the rest of the first six chapters delved into each law’s history specifically. A migraine attacked Jane mid-way through the lesson and harassed her the night. Dreading visiting her family tomorrow, she prayed that Mrs. Ariti offended her mother half as much as she offended Jane tonight.

True to their promise, Longbourn welcomed visitors the day after Elizabeth’s return. Jane accompanied Mrs. Ariti and Mr. Darcy, the three received exuberantly by Mrs. Bennet and Kitty. Lydia hid in her room, afraid of the mysterious Mrs. Ariti.

Jane sat next to Mary at the pianoforte and picked out her music. Mary stared at Mrs. Ariti in outright confusion.

“Is she in mourning, Jane?” Mary whispered.

“I am not, Miss Mary.” Selene said over Mrs. Bennet’s aimless ramblings about tea not being prepared and how thoughtless of the kitchen help to consider they might have visitors. “Miss Elizabeth, I regret we were unable to further speak yesterday, and I am exceedingly pleased to meet the rest of your family but I only count two sisters.”

Mr. Darcy’s brow rose and he tried to make himself smaller, as if expecting the worst.

Mrs. Bennet hesitated. “My youngest is resting.”

Selene cocked her ear toward the door. “Resting.” She repeated slowly. Mr. Darcy said nothing, and Elizabeth squirmed under the palpable tension.

Mrs. Bennet clenched her hands. “My second youngest is Catherine, but we call her Kitty.” She motioned to Kitty sitting with a book of popular poetry and reading with a small smile on her face. “Mary is courted by Mr. Brook. A most handsome couple, if I do say so myself.” A shred of warmth finally entered the woman’s demeanor.

Shrewd eyes cast over the entire family and finally Selene Ariti folded her hands on her lap. Whatever her thoughts were, she spoke not a word of them and instead asked about the wallpaper and color palette. Mrs. Bennet gladly engaged her on the subject while Mary and Jane played the pianoforte. Elizabeth listened to the typical conversation in complete boredom occasionally making eye contact with Mr. Darcy. Her heart fluttered, promptly ignored, and she wondered why his presence made her more comfortable in her own home. Instead of dwelling on what would soon pain her, she watched Jane assist Mary, startled by the door opening and Mrs. Hill entering to introduce Parson Brook.

“Mrs. Ariti,” Parson Brook bowed his head to the foreign woman. “I was going to call on you later this week.”

“Unnecessary. I will visit you on Sunday, your chosen day of worship. No one will be inopportuned, and I will be able to satisfy all the curiosity.” Selene waved her hand about and smiled wide, revealing fangs meant to kill. “Elizabeth, walk with me along your lane. I am most eager to enjoy your company.”

“Mr. Darcy, I must thank you for the recommendations. Mrs. Warren demands to know your connections and I informed her she must speak with the man of the hour himself.” Mr. Brook held out his hand. “Well met, sir.”

Mr. Darcy shook it. “I am pleased to be of great help to Hertfordshire.”

Mrs. Bennet did not know who to address first – Mr. Brook conspiring with Mr. Darcy, a most unsettling man or Mrs. Ariti, the woman who dared to take command without a hint of acknowledgment to the other party’s desires. “Lizzy, take Kitty-“

“Alone, Mrs. Bennet.” Selene said firmly. “Jane, we will return within the hour.”

Jane waved after them. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Brook – Please assure Mary that her finesse on the keys is perfect. She does not believe me!”

Speeding toward an exit before Mrs. Bennet interrupted the demand, Elizabeth welcomed the offered outer coat, gloves, and bonnet. Mrs. Ariti closed the door with a firm click and smiled at Mrs. Hill. “Thank you, Ma’am.” Mrs. Hill ushered them out the front before courage propelled Mrs. Bennet to intervene foolishly. “Miss Elizabeth…I admit, I am at a loss of how to address you. Will it be Mrs. Darcy in the future?”

They set out for the horizon using the graveled lane as a guide.

“We are of two different worlds, Mrs. Ariti.” Elizabeth answered calmly. Her heart gave her away and the coloring of her cheeks surely added to the humiliation. A firm hand wrapped around her arm and the elder pushed into Elizabeth’s personal space. “I am able to resist my mother’s wishes.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” Insulted, Elizabeth decided she did not like the directness of the elder or the authority in which she spoke. “My mother may be transparent in her machinations, but I am not her. I choose who I want to marry. To marry for love. Not convenience or wealth.”

“Have you any objections to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”

“As a person, no.”

“As an immortal?”

“Mrs. Ariti, please be plain in what you wish me to answer.” Elizabeth asked stiffly no longer amused at the directness.

They stopped in the middle of the lane and faced each other. Elizabeth breathed deeply, expecting the worst. The pale olive skin tone, dark hair, and daring bright red dress paired with a black men’s overcoat made the woman stand out anywhere in England. Her sense of style mashed into a scandalous outfit unfit for any part of England. Mr. Archwood would have to stack the charm in his favor to shield his beloved wife from the criticism. Despite all this, she admired the bravery of the worldly eccentric.

The wind whistled past them, rustling the hem of their dresses.

Finally the elder smiled sweetly, far too easily for Elizabeth’s liking. “Mr. Darcy favors you. He does not favor ladies easily. I wish to see him happy.”

“You expect me to encourage his affections.”

“No. I expect the truth from you. As I expected it from your sister last night.” Selene stated bluntly. “I must protect my coven. Can you fault me?”

Her shoulders sagged and the weight of her family’s reputation anchored her in her proper place. “No, ma’am, I can not.”

“Then you must see as I see and know that the best intentions are present. I hold no fault against yourselves and those that act respectability.” Mrs. Ariti extended her hand. “Lady to lady, we must protect our families. I welcome your cooperation and support in this.”

Cold, dead hand to living flesh met and they resumed their walk, eyes forward and minds more favorably engaged. They spoke of Jane and Mr. Bingley’s wedding and wedding banquet, of the transformation ritual requirements, and supernatural law that guided the supernatural community to peaceful co-existence within the borders of England. By the time they returned an hour had passed and Lydia reappeared in the drawing room to gossip with her mother and sisters. Jane listened to Mary’s pianoforte advice and tried to play the basic scale, failing happily and poking fun at herself in the process. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Brook idly chatted about Meryton’s gentlemen and their prospects in the world much like one would the odds of winning a hand.

Mrs Ariti spoke first. “Your family is quite strange, Miss Elizabeth.”

“They do not behave predictably, Mrs. Ariti.” Elizabeth handed over the outer garments to a waiting servant and touched her hair, greatly disturbed by the lack of delicacy she felt in manipulating her family into better behavior. Was this how a lady felt when she was no longer a child – but a full fledged adult ready to marry and start a family of her? “If you’ll excuse me, I must make my hair presentable.”

“I enjoyed our conversation, Miss Elizabeth.”

“As did I, Mrs. Ariti. I will visit tomorrow to further discuss our plans.” Elizabeth replied before making her exit and allowing her thoughts to sort themselves out into the appropriate categories. Her gut twisted, shame tainting her pride in being a respectable lady. There should be a better way, but what they spoke of on the road…it would control Lydia, protect Jane, and provide her an easy future until she found a man she could love and respect that could reasonably provide for her as a wife and mother.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Hawthorne tries to pry information from Elizabeth. Elizabeth refuses and visits Charlotte at Lucas Lodge.

Mrs. Bennet suggested Mr. Bennet send Lydia and Kitty to London to stay with their Uncle Gardiner hours after Mrs. Ariti’s visit and Elizabeth’s refusal to discuss what she spoke of with Mrs. Ariti. Mr. Brook inquired about the Archwood Coven after the departure of the company. Supplied with the gossip already well established, the Parson settled for firsthand information from Mrs. Ariti the following Sunday.

“You are unusually quiet, Lizzy.” Kitty said shortly after Mr. Brook’s departure and Mrs. Bennet absconding with Lydia to visit their cousins in Meryton. “I trust Mrs. Ariti is pleased with our home situation?”

Elizabeth looked up from the letter from Charlotte, shifted her legs and rolled her ankles. A yawn later, she shrugged. “I do not know. She is…following her vision. I do not know what that vision is, only that she is determined to protect her family. I will admit it pleased me when she thwarted our mother’s plans. The look on Mama’s face.” Kitty giggled and they both sighed. “In short, I believe she is unaffected by us.”

“Jane seems content.”

“Jane is aware that Mr. Bingley will not reject her.” Elizabeth folded Charlotte’s letter and faced her sister. “Which is why she was acting oddly at Netherfield Park. She was not Jane, Kit. She was someone who feared dying a spinster because our family is a mockery. We have no one to blame but ourselves.”

“Do we?” Kitty doubted.

They glanced toward the pianoforte where Mary organized her music sheets silently.

“Yes, we do. We should have prevented the decline of Lydia and yourself. You are improving, but Lydia is far too spoiled to be saved.”

“Do not say that, Lizzy. We will need to pray for a miracle.” Mary shook a finger at them. “You are much improved, Kitty. I hope you do not fall into Lydia’s trap.”

Kitty pursed her lips and contemplated before nodding in agreement. “I do not want her reputation. She is not well thought of by anyone. Miss Grace will not associate with her and Miss King has sworn to warn off all gentlemen of courting Lydia. The Harringtons only tolerate her because she learns gossip easily.”

They turned their heads toward the door opening and Mr. Bennet entered. He bowed to all of them. “Mr. Hawthorne is visiting, Lizzy. Please be kind to him. He means well.” Their father abandoned them and let in the investigator that held Meryton under his thumb. He hastily bowed and assured them they could stay seated.

The first opportunity to take in this man responsible for dragging in wayward supernaturals, Elizabeth noted his casual fashion and easy mannerisms. Mary ignored him and returned to her musical notes, matching Kitty’s complete disinterest. Both younger ladies retreated into their private worlds singling out Elizabeth to cater attention on the male. Ready for the worst, Elizabeth folded her hands on her lap and motioned him to resume his machinations. What was the worst this man could do?

“Forgive me, but we are not acquainted. I am Nathaniel Hawthorne.” He angled his body so that he directly faced Elizabeth and Kitty and Mary on the peripheral. Both acted as if he were invisible to them. “I wanted to speak with you about your presence in Netherfield Park, but I thought it wise to investigate outside of the property’s protection. I mean no harm to the Archwood Coven, but it is my duty to investigate claims against members of the Supernatural.”

Elizabeth’s carefully controlled face twitched in annoyance. “No.”

“Pardon.”

“I will not betray their confidence.” She stated. “I will only state that I was not presented with objectionable behavior while present in their home.”

He clutched his hat in his hands. “I think you mistake my presence as persecution for what they are. I assure you, Miss Bennet- “

“The answer is no, Mr. Hawthorne. If you are here to invade their privacy, I will not be your window.” She stood. “I am ending this audience now.”

He swallowed hard. “I have offended you. I am sorry.”

She smiled tersely. “I am not offended. I respect my hosts and their privacy. Now, please leave if the purpose of your visit is business. If you are here for idle conversation, I am unavailable. My dearest friend has informed me she yearns for my presence at Lucas Lodge and I miss her dearly. Thank you for calling on us, and I pray your travels are safe.” She curtsied and walked out of the drawing room intent on doing exactly as she stated and Charlotte desired.

Her father stood outside the door, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. She nodded to her father in passing and retreated to her bedroom to change into a more suitable dress.

Fifteen minutes later, she descended the steps to Mr. Hawthorne and her father speaking of something in hushed tones. Mary and Kitty laughed in the drawing room, soft music escaping into the vestibule in familiarity that warmed Elizabeth’s heart. This was home, or as much of a home as she expected Longbourn to be. All its trials and rewards shaped her into who she was, and she refused to betray Jane or the Archwood Coven. Jane’s future hung in the balance, and she, Elizabeth Bennet, would not be the downfall no matter who or what the coven may be responsible for. Her sister mattered more than a past mistake.

Genuinely curious she regret not trying to milk more out of him, but alas her loyalties defined her, and she was no traitor.

She stopped Lucy in the corridor. “Lucy, are the horses available?”

“I do not know, Miss Bennet.”

“Could you- “

“You could ride Nelly to Lucas Lodge.” Her father suggested. “Mr. Hawthorne and I can escort you.”

The idea of her father riding horseback shocked her. The thought of sharing the company of Mr. Hawthorne, despite his good manners, horrified her. “Thank you, Papa.” She managed lukewarmly and clutched her hands behind her back. “How soon may we leave?”

“How soon, sir?” Her father turned to Mr. Hawthorne.

The investigator bowed his head in deference to Elizabeth. “We can discuss your interests on the road, Mr. Bennet.”

“An excellent suggestion. Lizzy can ride behind us or ahead if she wishes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne.” Elizabeth said, devoid of personable amiability.

He gestured lightly toward her. “My pleasure, Miss Bennet.”

And so the three of them assembled twenty minutes later outside the stables. A young stable hand walked two horses to them – Nelly and Barnaby. Mr. Bennet helped his daughter onto Nelly’s saddle before mounting Barnaby with some difficulty. Safe in the saddle, he waited for Mr. Hawthorne to ride alongside them on a beautiful black mare.

“I call her Midnight.” He shared. “She is my companion on the road.”

Elizabeth awed.

“Onward, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Hawthorne encouraged.

Riding ahead, Elizabeth put two horse’s length between her and them, listening to them discuss an investigation into one of her father’s rivals. A distaste of the entire subject spurred her to urge Nelly the shorter route to Lucas Lodge. She loved riding Nelly when the opportunity present itself (rarely) and current company ruined the relief it provided.

With Lucas Lodge in sight, she stopped to admire the home from a distance. Like Longbourn it updated the windows with trending architectural demands and Lady Lucas likely tried to update the rooms as their income allowed. Providing a dowry for daughters proved expensive for any couple, and the Lucas’s were not much better off than the Bennets. Charlotte, plain as she was, should have married by now. No one knew why, and with Maria’s betrothed dying before their wedding, it placed a taint on the family.

“…as I was telling my comrade, sir.” Mr. Hawthorne pulled up next to Elizabeth. “He said that Meryton is blessed with a small-town tranquility, a shame that the immortals are drawn to it at this time. That tranquility will disappear as people vie for the immortal’s attentions.”

“I have already seen the effects and it has produced wonders for my family and extended family.” Her father heartily approved.

Mr. Hawthorne glanced at Elizabeth. “The company is pleasing, although Miss Bennet was most unwilling to answer my questions. Her loyalty is admirable.”

“Is it?” Elizabeth challenged.

“Yes. Such loyalty is desirable in a wife.” He answered and adjusted the reins in his hands. “Whoever catches your heart will be truly blessed with the Lord’s protection.”

Her scowl lessened. “Thank you, sir.”

Her father’s expression spoke for itself. Inquisitive and eager for more, Mr. Bennet engaged Mr. Hawthorne in his assessment of Elizabeth’s stubborn view that love should build a marriage. They laughed at the idea that love should be the only reason a lady marries. Elizabeth ignored the jabs at her rather naïve world views and supposed ignorance of the importance of financial stability and independence.

Sir William Lucas welcomed them into Lucas Lodge after the butler announced their appearance. “My good neighbors, please join me in the study while Charlotte monopolizes Miss Bennet’s time. Charlotte has missed you very much.” Elizabeth followed the housekeeper to the library where Charlotte sat alone with pieces of a puzzle on a table.

“Lizzy!” Charlotte dropped the puzzle piece in hand and rushed to her friend. They fell into each other’s arms and held each other in a loving embrace several minutes. “I have missed my dearest friend. Please tell me you bring nothing but good news.”

“Of course, I do.” Elizabeth grasped Charlotte’s hands. “Have you not heard of Meryton’s joys?”

Charlotte laughed. “Jane’s union.”

“Two more weeks, Charlotte.”

They raised their palms to the ceiling before seating themselves around the table and the scattered puzzle pieces. A green landscape with only the border established, Charlotte scrutinized the pieces in front of her. “A gift from a cousin.” She explained. “And a curse.”

The pieces blurred together into a mess of greens, and Elizabeth leaned back to find focus again.

“Tell me more, Eliza. I must know it all.”

Hesitating, Elizabeth leaned in. “Maria will not be offended at Jane’s fortune?” Charlotte shook her head and soon Elizabeth launched into everything with little to no reserve. With all of it off her chest, she also realized more than anything she wanted to risk her heart. Perhaps she should give Mr. Darcy the opportunity to win her heart and trust.

“You’re glowing, Lizzy.”

She blinked, feeling light and certain of the future. It nagged at her, pulling her toward Netherfield even now. She couldn’t understand it, but did she really want to understand it? It felt…so perfect.

Charlotte winked. “I will not tell a soul.”

“Thank you, Charlotte. I don’t know what I would do without your confidence.” Elizabeth breathed, her chest tight and before she knew it, she was on her feet. A new purpose planted itself firmly in the center of her heart.

She was going to earn Mr. Darcy’s affections and respect.

Fitting two pieces together in the center of the incomplete puzzle, Charlotte cocked her head at her friend. “One request in return, Lizzy.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me more about Mr. Hawthorne.” Charlotte insisted shyly.

Friend to friend, the ladies sat down, and Elizabeth shared what she learned from Lydia, Kitty, Mary, and her parents. The tidbits added into a pleasing picture of a gentleman with the unfortunate tasking of investigating supernaturals. He like chocolates and mysteries; his companions were as capable as him and more military minded; they stopped several threats to civilization before and were lauded as heroes and respected as peacekeepers between the Supernaturals and mortals.

Lady Lucas invited Elizabeth to dinner and offered to ride her home in the carriage afterwards. Gladly accepting the offer, she thrilled upon learning her father and Mr. Hawthorne rode back to Longbourn after Sir William Lucas insisted Elizabeth stay longer for Charlotte’s happiness. The ladies returned to their puzzle, gladly gossiping about the new arrivals and the expected betrothal of Miss Lancolm and a member of the visitor’s party.

“A very pleasing event, if only for Miss Lancolm. She’s pined for years to be married as her sisters before her.”

“Perhaps we can convince Mr. Hawthorne to take an interest in you.” Elizabeth teased Charlotte, both ladies giddy on high hopes and dreams.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia is a brat, Mary is assured of her future, and Mr. Hawthorne dodges Elizabeth's questions as a new gentleman calls on Kitty.

Charlotte and Elizabeth caught up on the current events before and after dinner, parting at Longbourn with sincere promises to meet up the day after.

“We have neighbors to visit, Lizzy, and Mama is insistent upon speaking to everyone in our acquaintance.” Charlotte huddled under a cover, the cold attacking exposed skin mercilessly.

“Miss King, as I have learned, is soon to travel.” Elizabeth informed her. “But I do not know it all, so you must speak with her. I have not been informed of gossip the last two weeks.” Shifting her feet, she promised herself to sit in front of the fireplace to warm up before bed.

They held hands a moment longer. Waving after her friend, she then entered the house to discover Lydia and Kitty sniping at each other with extra vindictiveness. Mary observed it all quietly and motioned Elizabeth to join her at the pianoforte to keep a distance from the destructive pair.

A letter hung between them and Elizabeth grabbed it from Mary’s pinched fingers. Unfolding it slowly, she waited for Lydia to lunge at Kitty and try to pull hair.

“What started this fight?” Elizabeth asked.

“Lydia took an interest in a gentleman that Kitty met in Meryton. A gentleman from the south.”

“Oh.”

“Mr. Brook said he is a tradesman of rising rank. Lydia is jealous that he complimented Kitty on her dress.” Mary crossed her arms, eyes never leaving the troublesome Lydia now gloating about some inconsequential encounter that Kitty needlessly valued. Lydia’s friends and acquaintances were of little use to Kitty, especially since Lydia manipulated each of them into believing Kitty hated Lydia through and through.

“When did Kitty go to Meryton?” Elizabeth asked, confused.

“After you left for Lucas Lodge.” Mary answered. “Read the letter please. I dare not believe my eyes.”

Curiosity attacked and she finally laid eyes on the words scrawled in neat lines touching the edges of the page front and back.

“Miss Mary Bennet, it is my pleasure to inform you that I have spoken with my family upon the tender subject of our courtship. My mother is pleased to learn I have earned an income to support a wife, and she will be visiting me within the week to make your acquaintance. I have forewarned her that your mother is a lady of strong emotions and that talk of marriage will cause a disturbance in your home. I wished to warn you beforehand.” Elizabeth stopped reading and faced Mary. “Mary?”

She blushed. “Keep reading.”

“I admire your strength and pray that it will hold up under the scrutiny of our collective mothers. If you seek shelter from their attentions, I have also invited my dear cousins Henry and Harriet, twins. They understand that a lady’s privacy is of utmost importance and will protect it to the best of their ability. They will arrive shortly before my mother and stay at the parsonage with me should you wish to make their acquaintance and form a friendship.” A goofy smile spread across Elizabeth’s face and she squished Mary in a hug. “Awe! My little sister is growing up!”

Lydia and Kitty quit arguing, studying the pair as if they were foreign to the family. “What are you going on about?” Lydia demanded.

Mary’s face screwed up and she hung her head in resignation.

“Mr. Brook’s family is visiting him with the intention of meeting Mary.” Elizabeth answered proudly. “Mary will become a Mrs. Brook soon, I hope.”

“God willing.” Mary whispered.

Elizabeth squealed and squashed Mary once more. Rolling her eyes, Lydia propped her feet on the settee and tossed a pillow at Kitty. Batting it away, Kitty bowed her head to read again. In a flash, Mary darted toward the fireplace and kicked the singed pillow away from the flame.

“I do not know why you’re acting like a child, but it will end now, Lydia.” Mary towered over the youngest Bennet. “I will marry Mr. Brook and Jane will marry Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth will find someone to suit her as will Kitty and you will remain unmarried because you act like a child. Because, despite your physical form, you are a child. We are not Mama. We will not tolerate your idiocy. It ends today.” Mary leaned over so that she looked Lydia in the eye. “If you damage my courtship and future with Mr. Brook, I will ensure Papa sends you to live with the Collins.”

“He would never.”

“Are you so certain? He does not care about our daily activities if we do not spend needlessly like Mama. The expense of supporting you would gladly be transferred. Your behavior of late has disappointed the lowest of opinions in the Meryton. I daresay even Aunt Gardiner has heard of it in London.” Mary’s voice dropped. “This is my future you threaten. Do not test me, Lydia. God is on my side.”

Kitty’s jaw dropped. “Mary!”

“And you – stop being sensitive.” Mary snapped. “Lizzy, how am I to receive Mrs. Brook? I know not how to handle a mother other than our own.”

Contented to be a helping hand to an inexperience soul, Elizabeth motioned for Mary to rejoin her. “Do not test me, Lydia. God is on my side.” Elizabeth teased.

“I’m serious. How?”

“Play your music while I ponder your new situation.” She instructed Mary.

Hiding the pillow’s blackened corner, Lydia curled up into a ball and listened to the whimsical soft music drifting from the pianoforte. Kitty sketched a flower petal and shaded it in intense concentration. Elizabeth dwelled on the problem presented by a desperate Mary, thinking more on it over the next several days. Mr. Hawthorne and the gentleman that complimented Kitty’s dress called on them the day after they learned of Mr. Brook’s mother’s intentions. Excluding herself from the interactions, Elizabeth considered the man that doted on Kitty and ignored Lydia entirely.

Mrs. Bennet attempted to include Lydia in their admirations and attentions, except Mr. Hawthorne proposed that they walk the property to better enjoy the weather.

“We will have a merry walk, won’t we?” Lydia hugged to Kitty’s arm.

“No. You will stay and keep Mama company.”

“Lizzy can- “

Kitty pursed her lips and pried Lydia’s hand off her forearm. “I prefer Lizzy’s company.”

“Mama!” Their mother face palmed.

“We will visit your aunt.”

“But I am bored there! I want to walk with Kitty and the others.” Lydia whined loud enough for the gentlemen to turn toward them curiously.

Nails digging into Lydia’s arm, Kitty walked Lydia back to their mother’s side and let go abruptly. Elizabeth soon joined the merry party of Kitty, Mr. Hawthorne, and Mr. Barnett on the road that circumvented the tenant farms.

They walked through the cold weather, determined to distance themselves from Lydia.

“It is a cutting day, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Hawthorne said cheerfully.

She wondered at how the coldness failed to affect her, although today she regret they were not living at Netherfield Park so that they could walk the long hallways and avoid the wind altogether. “Yes, indeed. Thank you for riding with me to Lucas Lodge. I know that you have a schedule to uphold and it shifted your priorities. I did not intend it.”

He matched her steps and Kitty drifted back to shyly walk side by side with Mr. Barnett.

“I have questions, if you will answer them for me.” Elizabeth said, her voice firm. She feared for her reputation, but she only thought of Mr. Darcy. “What offense has the Archwood Coven committed?”

He squirmed under her gaze.

“Sir, my sister is to become immortal. I do not need the delicate protections many believe is necessary for all ladies.” She pressed.

He said nothing for minutes on end and stole a glance around at the trees and fences and fields for want of a topic suitable. “You do not fully understand my role. I am paid to investigate claims that arise.”

“And?”

“A claim was made against a member of the Archwood Coven.”

Elizabeth clutched her gloved hands at her waist, forging forward as bravely foolish as Lydia in her finest moments. “Sir, my sister is marrying into the coven. What is the claim?”

He sighed. “I cannot sully your reverent opinion of the coven, Miss Bennet.”

She pouted and reconfigured her face into a blank expression best fitting the friendly walk. “Well, we shall not linger long on that subject if it displeases you, Mr. Hawthorne. I hear rumor you are courting a lady. Is it true? A gentleman such as yourself surely is beloved by a betrothed.” She forced laughter, the dead words hitting the wind as lifelessly as the spark in her soul.

“A lady, yes, but I am saving to purchase a home before I offer.”

“A proper romantic. I approve.” She nodded enthusiastically. “Does she approve of your chosen field of employment?”

He cleared his throat and turned away from the wind. “I suggest we return toward the house. It is exceptionally uncomfortable today.”

“I am in agreement.” Mr. Barnett volunteered, slyly glancing over Kitty’s red cheeks, nose, and chin. “The ladies must be numb.”

Elizabeth noted the short distance they covered and mentally lamented they were unable to travel further. She yearned to step upon uncommon roads and refused to listen to Lydia be a childish lady. “My feet are regretting this choice of activity.” She admitted. “Mr. Hawthorne, I hear you have companions staying in Meryton. Are they of the same profession?”

“Yes, Miss Bennet, and they are capable investigators.”

She worried for the Archwood Coven and almost giggled at the image of Mrs. Ariti verbally undressing them. The most lethal person in the coven, in her humble opinion, was the matriarch. She suspected Mrs. Ariti once held power and never relinquished it despite the world and its hostility toward powerful women.

“Miss Lancolm is to marry one of them within the month. It will be a celebrated event in our circles.”

“Will it? I thought you were investigating a claim. Is the investigation that unimportant?” She queried.

A long pause and he asked after Jane. They spoke of Jane’s attachment to Mr. Bingley and the surprising character that Mrs. Ariti appeared to be. Two jabs against the masculine need for control the matriarch wielded, and they returned to the warmth of Longbourn and the thick of planning that hinted at a private party to celebrate Jane’s union before Jane departed for Scotland. Lydia suggested foods they were unable to afford on the monthly budget while Mrs. Bennet demanded to update the dining room and drawing room wallpaper “For we will be thought of as poor otherwise.” Mrs. Bennet stated matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth snorted.

“Ah, the return of my daughters!” She rose majestically from the armchair and advanced toward them. “I have tea readied.” She gestured to the steam pot of water on a tray at the card table.

They gladly gathered around the table and Kitty prepared everyone’s preferred herbal strengths.

“We have decided, while you walked, that we will celebrate Jane’s success by sending her off with the adoration of neighbors, acquaintances, and of course, your many cousins.” Mrs. Bennet informed them gleefully. “I will write your uncle and aunt today and urge them to visit as soon as possible. Two more weeks – less than two!”

Kitty and Elizabeth traded dark glances over the rim of their teacups.

“To think, two daughters. Mr. Brook is a handsome fellow and to have my child near is heartwarming solace. Jane should visit – I will demand it.” She thrilled and startled Mr. Barnett. Mr. Hawthorne allowed her the rambling train of thoughts, indulging her by mentioning that Mr. Bingley posed no threat to the ladies and was overly amiable to everyone. “We are the luckiest family in Hertfordshire. If only my Elizabeth were able to stumble upon her own accidental half.”

The music abruptly stopped, and Mary bent over to pick up sheets.

Tingling subsiding, Elizabeth ignored her mother and pretended she didn’t hear a word.

No. She was not going to stumble upon her own accidental half. She already met him. His name was Fitzwilliam Darcy, and he entered her dreams as a dashing handsome Prince ready to sweep her off her feet and save her from the horrible villain.

“Are you paying attention, Lizzy?” Her mother teased.

She blinked rapidly and feigned ignorance. “My apologies, Mama. What did I miss?”

Suffering her mother’s repetitive wishing and impossible dreams, she pitied the gentlemen and they pitied the sisters. By the time they departed, Mrs. Bennet exposed each of their silliest and most embarrassing youthful moments with zero understanding how it harmed her children. Wishing she were an inanimate object, Elizabeth once more turned her thoughts to Jane and Mary. If she were not able to be happy in love, they certainly deserved it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth receives startling news.

“Elizabeth, you are not permitted to leave.” Mr. Bennet stopped his second eldest from leaving Longbourn for a brief walk along the lane. “Mr. Darcy and Miss Boording are on their way here. Mrs. Ariti privately requests your presence at Netherfield Park.” He handed over a letter addressed to him along with a sealed letter addressed to her.

“Charlotte and Maria expect me at Lucas Lodge in an hour, Papa.” She planned this day around everyone else, to include Lydia pestering to visit Maria despite Lady Lucas expressly telling Mrs. Bennet it would not be permitted the day prior. Mary begged her to go to the parson’s cottage to call upon the cousins and Mrs. Brook, and while sorely tempted to join her middle sister, she owed a greater service to the Lucas family.

“I will warn them that you were detained by your sister. Jane is the priority until she marries, Elizabeth.” He patted her shoulder. “Tend to your blood first. Jane needs you.”

She sighed. “Jane is her own adult, Papa. She no more needs me than I need her in this moment. Mary has Mr. Brook and his family to entertain. Kitty is growing into her own person, and Lydia won’t change. Jane needs to stand on her own feet.”

“Jane is not the one requesting your presence. Your mother does not want Mrs. Ariti’s presence in this home, and I am for one in rare agreement with her. Tend to her demands, and you’ll be free to call upon the Lucas family tomorrow.” Her father smiled, kissed her forehead, and closed the door to his study.

Mrs. Hill sympathetically handed over the gloves, coat, and bonnet to a peeved Elizabeth.

A sealed letter to answer creeping questions accompanied her in the drawing room. Curling up on the settee, she picked at the wax seal reluctantly. Charlotte looked forward to their visit today, and they intended to go over Charlotte’s art portfolio and the new snippets of information gleaned on Mr. Hawthorne from his sparse visits with Mr. Barnett. Maria wanted Kitty to join Elizabeth but Kitty’s plans for the day involved Miss Crown and Miss Long, two young ladies that were a proper influence for the young lady.

Pretty handwriting detailing the lessons Jane suffered at Mrs. Ariti’s sharp mind and willful pride distracted Elizabeth from the passing of time and lingering disappointment. She covered a yawn and mumbled “Poor Jane.” multiple times, the extent of the lessons as dry as they were specific to the laws Jane needed to abide by to not suffer adverse consequences in the supernatural community.

“Miss Bennet, are you ready to travel to Netherfield?” A small voice asked.

Her eyes lifted from the strict curriculum to Miss Boording in all her shyness. “I lost myself in your letter.” She teased.

“Mrs. Ariti is quite severe if her lessons are improperly learned.” Miss Boording bowed her head. “Miss Jane Bennet shows mild interest, which irritates her frequently. Forgive me when I say that with them to be in Scotland soon, Netherfield Park will become an easier place to live in.”

Elizabeth sympathized. Dressing quickly, she pitied Mrs. Ariti. Jane, sweet as she was, lacked the motivation the rest of them adapted over the years. She liked to believe that Jane simply planned a different future where playing the pianoforte or learning French or attempting to draw or read more extensively wasn’t important. A part of her knew Jane relied on her beauty to provide for a future and it bothered her. Beauty faded. Motivation and intelligence clung to the person much longer.

Miss Boording attached herself to Elizabeth and walked her out to the waiting carriage. Mr. Darcy read a book, barely lifting his gaze from the pages upon the ladies stepping into the enclosed space. “I have missed your company.”

“How so, Miss Boording?” She asked, clutching onto her lady companion as the carriage jolted forward and they set off for Netherfield Park.

The lady dabbed at her forehead with a handcloth. “Your opinions are always firm and delivered without doubt to where you stand. You are not like most ladies. You are not afraid of society’s wrath- “

Elizabeth laughed. “You give me too much credit, Miss Boording. I fear society as much as the next lady. I simply know who I am and how I feel, instead of it being dictated to me by others. To be sure of who I am, as age and experience have permitted me.” She softened under Mr. Darcy’s sneaky glancing and clutched her hands on her lap.

Miss Boording leaned inward. “Your confidence is beautiful. I envy it.”

“One day you will be confident. You live among the most respected gentlemen who speak well of you and society does not speak ill of you. It is a rare gift that not all ladies are permitted. My own father mocks Kitty and Lydia all the time despite the consequences. Kitty is improving and Mary has transformed under the adorations of Mr. Brook. She adores his cousins and they adore her. His mother is hesitant because of our family’s reputation as a whole- “

“But they are perfect! Their love of the church- “

“Most mutually shared, I assure you.” Elizabeth gushed. “She brightens a room whenever he is near, and to hear her laugh with him in arm’s reach. Truly she is a different, happier person because of Mr. Brook.”

Mr. Darcy closed his book. “He is taken in by her piety and humble beauty, Miss Bennet. There is no doubt my mind that he will offer marriage before the end of the year.”

“For Mary’s heart, I pray so, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth admit. “Miss Boording, you will find your own strength. There are those who insist you must find your worth through your husband, but no lady needs a gentleman to be strong or worthy of society’s adoration. What she needs is to know who she is and that she needs only her own approval. Society is fickle.”

“Too fickle.” Mr. Darcy agreed and returned to his book.

They ladies exchanged smiles and Miss Boording clutched Elizabeth’s hand in her lap comforted by its touch. Upon arrival at the grand home, Mrs. Ariti helped them out of the carriage and encouraged Miss Boording to start her musical lessons with Mr. Cull.

“Miss Bennet, I apologize for the urgency, but I could not risk your mother’s frail nerves or your father’s sarcasm elevating the severity.” Mrs. Ariti motioned for Mr. Darcy to walk ahead of them. “I wanted to be the one to speak to you. I respect you, and I trust you’ll give it the due weight.”

They mounted the steps carefully and entered the building solemnly.

Not much changed in the decorations other than a breathtaking Egyptian neckpiece on display next to golden crown adorned with a winged lady in the center.

“Memories of my past.” Mrs. Ariti shared fondly. “We all carry with us remnants of the lives we lived.”

“You were powerful – are powerful, but you also descended from power.” Elizabeth stated boldly. “Were you a strong adherent to Egyptian beliefs?”

Mrs. Ariti relaxed and lifted the crown off the bust. She gazed upon the polished metal in great reverence. “While you worship a being you call God, I worshipped three. Osiris, Isis, and Horus. The last of the Greek Ptolemaic leaders of my motherland. To watch my motherland waste away…it kills the soul.” She swallowed hard and faced Elizabeth with the scarab crown. “Would you like to hold it?”

“I wouldn’t dare for fear of dropping it.”

“It is made of gold, not glass.” Mrs. Ariti placed it in her shaking hands. “The weight of my people in a simple but sacred crown.”

“You ruled Egypt?” Elizabeth clenched the crown in disbelief.

“Yes.” Mrs. Ariti admitted. “Are you not curious who I am?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You are Mrs. Ariti, the other half of Mr. Archwood. It is all I ever needed to know.”

Mrs. Ariti embraced the younger lady. “I wish many blessings on you, Miss Bennet, but you must know when I made Julian I had grand plans for the future. Plans that did not involved a humble lady like your sister to become a member of my blooded family. Unfortunately, the gentleman who accompanied Mr. Hawthorne in Meryton do not respect the peace. Mr. Bingley was attacked while walking the property. Whilst bleeding out of a poisoned wound unable to heal itself, he stumbled on your sister in the kitchen making late night tea. No one foresaw it. No one could have prevented it.”

Tears leaked down Elizabeth’s cheek.

“We intended to carry out a ceremony to properly introduce her to the vampiric society and lifestyle, but that has been robbed from her. Mr. Bingley’s control has always been fragile, and now I hold myself responsible for not assigning him a constant bodyguard like Saji-san. I know you thought you had more time with your sister as a mortal- “

Replacing the crown on the bust, Elizabeth steadied herself and breathed. “Are she and Mr. Bingley to marry?” She whispered.

“Yes.” A firm hand gently rubbed her back much like a mother to child.

Throat tight, the loss seeped to her human core and corrupted the happiness wrapping her in a soulful embrace. “How soon?”

“Two days from now. A vampiric parson has been summoned to reduce the threat she is to your family and Meryton.”

Faint footsteps broke the moment, and Elizabeth looked into the lowered gaze of Saji Nagayasu. “Why am I here?” Elizabeth demanded bravely. Wiping away the tears with her hand, she promised herself to be happy again. This day was inevitable.

A slender arm curled through hers. “Julian wanted to personally apologize.”

“It is unnecessary.” She labored to breathe properly and relaxed the moment the stranger disappeared around the corner and out of sight and earshot. “I do not hold anyone accountable except the person who harmed Mr. Bingley.”

“That is charitable of you, but poor Julian demanded you be given the fullest respects.” Mrs. Ariti insisted in overriding authority.

Giving in, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and erased all but a hint of emotional devastation behind a wall of indifference. A pacing Julian rushed toward them the moment they entered the study. He stood across from her wringing his hands and stumbled over the same words in full regret.

“Please, Miss Bennet, you must know that we protected your sister. No one expected- “

“I need to sit.” Feeling faint, she held onto Mrs. Ariti, soon to be seated in a nearby armchair. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she wished someone other than a former ruler of Egypt and the other half weren’t closely observing her. Dear, dear Jane no longer human. No longer permitted to contact any of the family except through letters. And poor Mr. Bingley! “Is Meryton safe?” She asked finally.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, a power couple who weathered history and witnessed miracles and atrocities her heart could never fully survive in its current mortal state of existence. She was a fragile mortal compared to these grand beings, and she bowed at their feet in reverence for the memories they carried forth from the past onward into the future never to die. A leader and a historian, each strong separately and invincible together, now wanted her to be held in the same esteem as them.

Julian clasped his hands meekly. “Meryton is safe. We are not. We have no proof it was the companions of Mr. Hawthorne, but they are the same individuals responsible for harassing our comrades in the cities and towns elsewhere in England.”

“Am I threatened?” She asked.

“Why would you believe yourself to be threatened, Miss Bennet?” Mrs. Ariti demanded.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Mr. Darcy has won my attentions.” She whispered. A pin could be dropped and be head throughout the house. “I fought it, argued against it. Two different worlds, but he is a gentleman and I am a gentleman’s daughter. We see eye to eye on much. I know I will never hold his affections, but I can not close myself off from my heart. It is too stubborn.”

Silence crushed the lady into the armchair until she could no longer tolerate it. On her feet, she walked right into Mrs. Ariti’s open arms, captured by her unusually sharp gaze and strong hold. Mr. Archwood watched passively, still as a statue, as the ladies measured each other on an invisible scale of judgment.

“We approve.” Mrs. Ariti finally said. “If he sees sense, we will gladly welcome another Miss Bennet into our coven.”

“You’re making her nervous, Selene.”

“Yes, I am, but she is stronger than her nerves. She rises above them, does she not?” Selene challenged.

Elizabeth inhaled and exhaled. “Mr. Hawthorne knows I will not betray this coven’s secrets.”

“We do not demand your loyalty. We are able to defend ourselves.” Mr. Archwood assured her.

She felt reassured, but it did not remove the threat against her or the problem that presented itself. “Mama can not know. Nor Papa. They will demand justice. They will blame you because you are immortals.” She wrapped her arms around herself and found a smidgen of calm in the knowledge Jane was safe as a new immortal, soon to be married to the man of her choosing, and soon after to travel to Scotland to live among only immortals.

Their eyes followed her back and forth.

“I can bear it no more. I must return home. I need to return home.” She announced. “Please take me home.”

“Of course. I will have Miss Boording accompany you.” Mr. Archwood permitted. “Selene, find Fitzwilliam. We need to address the threat that is in Meryton. Miss Bennet is correct. Keeping our secrets is dangerous, and they will target her to wound us. It is inevitable. We must head it off.”

“One of them is to marry soon.” Elizabeth said quickly.

“It is child’s play to prevent a wedding.” Mr. Archwood dismissed. “It will only anger them further. We need not anger or fear, but something far more formidable. An understanding that they do not want their sins exposed at the expense of forcing us out as well.”

She nodded once. “Good luck and may the heavens be on your side.”

“Pray for us, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Archwood asked.

Mrs. Ariti walked Elizabeth to the front of the home slowly, careful to say nothing and observe everything in the fragile lady. Before she thought better of it, Elizabeth wrapped herself around Mrs. Ariti and held on for dear life. “I beg of you to look after Jane. She is a soft lady in need of guidance and strength even if she is a beacon of quiet dominance.”

Appreciating the vulnerability, Mrs. Ariti promised to protect Jane and speak sense into Mr. Darcy. At their parting, the elder of the pair already plotted Elizabeth Bennet’s future with as much eagerness as she planned to ambush the unsuspecting Mr. Darcy.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth frets and the sisters joins forces.

Keeping to herself upon returning home, Elizabeth locked herself in her bedroom and curled up with her favorite book from her father’s personal library. She attempted to recall the last words she and Jane exchanged. The last full memory she thought they shared was holding hands when Mrs. Ariti’s carriage approached Netherfield Park. Before that they fought over silly differences that she struggled to remember now.

“Thank you, Sarah- “Her bedroom door opened, and Mary slipped in. “Tell Kitty I will join her for tea in the drawing room shortly.”

A visibly exhausted Mary made herself comfortable at the foot of Elizabeth’s bed.

Composing herself, Elizabeth held the book against her chest hoping it hid her true emotional state. “Mary?”

She held up a hand. “I know. You want privacy, but I am tired of questions from Lydia.”

“So, you hide in my room?” She almost smiled at the absurdity of it. Mary hiding in a room instead of hiding in a book of prayers – the world evolved!

Mary waved her hand flippantly. “I know what you’re going to say, but would you please join us for tea. Papa says you visited Netherfield. Is everything well?”

She sat upright. “Jane and Mr. Bingley are unable to wait to be married. They will be married soon and off to Scotland. I will miss her, but I full intend to write often.” She shared soberly, surprised at her own contented solution to an otherwise unexposed threat.

“Join us for tea, Lizzy.”

“If you insist.”

Mary helped her older sister out of bed and downstairs to waiting tea and a perky Kitty doodling flowers in her art journal.

“The glow of adoration. It becomes you, Kit.” Elizabeth hugged Kitty close. “I hope Mr. Barnett does not toy with your heart unless he intends to marry you.”

They stared at the fire warming the drawing room.

“I like him, Lizzy. He is…simple. Pleasing. Not poetic but certainly the effort counts, yes?” Kitty never looked up from her drawings, hand confidently skating across the page with no regard for outside opinions.

“The effort counts as long as it is sincere.” Mary said while pouring hot water over tea shavings.

“I believe his efforts at poetry, bad as they are, is sincere.” Kitty giggled. “Lydia says he is not worth the effort. Too poor, but he is rising in rank and wealth.”

“He is. I spoke to Mr. Brook about him and it would appear his business is flourishing in London.” Mary looked to Elizabeth when she spoke. “His family has entered a lucrative trade at the right moment.”

“I do not fancy London.” Kitty pouted.

Mary pushed the cup and saucer toward Kitty. “Then it is a good thing he is planning to move from London for another city to expand their opportunities.”

“How do you know that?” Kitty stopped doodling and sized up Mary.

Mary in turned faced Elizabeth for support.

“Mr. Brook trusts me and speaks to me when he’s trying to impress Mary.” Elizabeth admitted. “I also ask him about Mr. Darcy. Often enough that he suspects I fancy the gentleman.”

“Mr. Darcy is handsome, and you are permitted to fancy him.” Kitty nudged her. “Maybe you should call upon Jane and break her free from Mrs. Ariti’s strict routines.”

Elizabeth paled.

“Are you afraid of her?”

“Yes. She is everything that is Mama and Aunt Gardiner combined. I respect that woman’s authority far more than I dare to risk her wrath.” Not to mention that Jane was no longer human, Elizabeth thought bitterly.

“Then I will force the visit and drag you along.” Kitty volunteered merrily.

Her heart almost stopped beating. “No. Jane deserves her privacy, Kitty. She is soon to be a married woman and does not need our council. Better that you write her a letter instead.”

“Are you certain Jane will not hold it against us?” Kitty asked.

Nodding furious, Elizabeth then indulged in the sugarless tea before the truth came out and ruined all their good moods.

Mary happily granted them a full disclosure on Henry and Harriet Corbyn, cousins of John Brook, the remainder of the afternoon with Kitty dropping a novel on Mr. Barnett and his obscure family’s heroic rise from anonymity to living in comfort. Elizabeth listened to it most cheerfully, fully distracted from Jane’s predicament until dinner when their mother asked what Mrs. Ariti demanded. Glossing over the meeting as minds joining on how to keep contact between Bennets and Bingleys, Elizabeth noticed her father’s nonexistent sarcasm and wit. She wondered if he knew the truth too.

Lydia irritated them with rumors of Maria’s new romantic interests and hinting of Mr. Hawthorne becoming the new target for childish flirting. When they retired to bed, the long day filled with new information molded into a minor occurrence seemingly disconnected from the following days demands. Lydia suggested they visit Harriet Corbyn over breakfast the following morning.

“Mr. Corbyn said that he and Harriet were visiting Miss Crown in Meryton, and Miss Long offered them an afternoon of tea. I see no reason we should interfere in their plans. It is unwise and not neighborly at all.” Mary refused.

Lydia pouted over jam slathered toast. “Please.”

“I will not interrupt their plans.” Mary said over a cup of coffee. “They may be visiting Mr. Brook, but they are not bound to our company. Mr. Brook is the Parson for Meryton as well as the Bennets.”

“Why are you the one to marry the handsome parson? You are not pretty- “

“Lydia, that is unkind.” Elizabeth gave up on praying at the table and turned to her rumbling stomach and the plates of food in the center of the table.

Lydia almost cried. “You are unkind, Lizzy. It is not fair that the only sister to not have a courtship is me. I am of age. I am out. It is wholly unkind.”

“Actually, Lydia, I am without a courtship.” Elizabeth volunteered and dabbed at her mouth nervously. “Whatever infatuation I have with Mr. Darcy and he with me, it is ill destined, and we are both aware of it.”

Lydia pouted and stomped. “It is not fair!”

“You acting like a three-year-old isn’t fair.” Mary quipped. “You’re ruining it for the rest of us. You’ll find love. We do not know what is in Mr. Barnett’s heart or future. It is unfair to characterize him as a gentleman undeserving of Kitty’s attentions.”

“Kitty is only two years older than me.”

“And far more socially acceptable to court. You are fifteen. You have your whole life ahead of you.” Mary puffed her chest out, faintly resembling Jane in that moment.

“It is still unfair.” She marched out of the dining room leaving Kitty, Elizabeth and Mary alone.

They faced each other over their drinks.

“How are we going to handle her?” Elizabeth queried.

Mary smirked. “Distract her.”

“How?” Kitty whined.

“Mr. Hawthorne has companions. Companions who wish to be better acquainted with the Bennets because we’re close to the Archwood Coven.” Mary answered flatly. “It is a perfect opportunity for her to grow without embarrassing us too much. They’ll expect it of her. All of Meryton already thinks poorly of us. How much worse can it be made?”

They resigned to the idea of being thought poorly of and agreed to force the acquaintance as soon as possible. Elizabeth worried for herself but expected the gentlemen to follow social expectations. They wouldn’t attack her when in the company of her sisters, cousins, aunt, mother, etcetera. No proper gentleman, regardless of their views on sympathetic individuals to the supernatural realm, dare ruin his chances of marrying into a higher position in society.

“Lizzy, do you care for Mr. Darcy?” Mary asked curiously.

“He has visited us several times and he does pay you excessive attentions.” Kitty pointed out. “He respects your opinions, Lizzy. You should pursue him. Encourage his affections.”

“I have.” She admit, no longer afraid of her feelings for Mr. Darcy. Her heart was permitted to love foolishly if she did not run off to Scotland to marry a complete stranger. Every lady ought to love bravely (or foolishly) once or twice in her life.

“Have you? You’ve said that you wished to welcome his affections, but all we’ve seen is reluctant intimacy of thoughts that can be accumulated into nothing more than polite acceptance of one’s attentions.”

Elizabeth blushed. “It is hard.”

“Is it?” Mary pressed gently somehow merging Jane and their aunt into the single lady known as Mary Bennet.

“I find myself tongue-tied at times. I want to listen to him speak, and he has the most pleasant voice. He speaks eloquently and he composes himself as a true gentleman. I know not how to compose myself in his company, especially when he asks about my travels and my connections.”

Mary cupped her shoulder. “We will persevere, sister.”

“They are inferior to his, regretfully.” She sighed. “I want to…be better acquainted with him. To accept a proposal from him. I know it is foolish, but I can’t ignore my heart. I have to accept that he may not wish to reciprocate my emotions.”

Kitty hugged Elizabeth. “We will do everything in our power to make Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet an engaged couple. I give you my word.”

“And mine. But first we must neutralize Lydia.” Mary said and finished Lydia’s toast. “And the safest manner to do that is by exposing the true agenda of Mr. Hawthorne and his associates.”

“What do you believe their agenda is?” Elizabeth demanded nervously.

Kitty stared at the food in open yearning, her appetite repressed by a desire for a better figure. “It’s concerning the Archwood Coven. That much I know. I won’t risk Jane losing her happiness or our family’s safety. There is something…different about them. Mr. Hawthorne is respectable, yes, but his companions are not as warmhearted or open to questions.” The spot-on instincts impressed and worried Elizabeth. What if they stepped on the toes too much? Would the Bennets be next on the list?

Elizabeth laughed. “Mr. Hawthorne never answers questions fully posed to him.”

“You attacked him, Lizzy. I doubt he’d ever truly answer your questions without doubting your own intentions.” Mary smiled. “You need to be softer. Kinder. Gentler. More vulnerable and ladylike.”

“I am ladylike.”

“Yes, but lately you are turning into a protective spinster sister determined to see the rest of us properly married at the expense of yourself.” Kitty teased. “You need to breathe. Relax. Allow the outside world into your world and be influenced by it.”

“But I am!”

“No, you really aren’t, Lizzy. Even Charlotte said you’re different.”

Face in hands, Elizabeth ran her hands over her hair. “I just want everyone to be happy and safe.”

“You’re forgetting that you deserve happiness too, Lizzy.” Mary grabbed her hand. “I love you. You’re the best sister. But you aren’t the only protector we have. We can learn to fend for ourselves.”

“But we don’t have to do so alone.” Nor could Elizabeth tell them the truth about Jane and Mr. Bingley. It would frighten them, and they needed to be assured of their security in Hertfordshire.

“No, we don’t have to. But we can’t cut ourselves off from our own needs and wants. We’ll help you win over Mr. Darcy, and you’ll help us marry our gentleman.” Mary agreed enthusiastically, a perfect portrait of happiness.

“I enjoy Mr. Barnett’s attentions, but I do not know if I truly give him my heart. It’s nice to…be granted special attentions.” Kitty shrugged. “I’ll treasure it while it lasts.”

“When do we visit Meryton?” Elizabeth resigned.

“Today.” Kitty decided. “If we encounter the Corbyns and Mrs. Brook, all the better for Mary.” She winked deviously.

Elizabeth tapped her cup. “And if we encounter Mr. Hawthorne and company?”

“Lydia is welcome to flirt with all the gentlemen.” Kitty decided. “Sisters unanimous.”

“Well, if we as a council of wise voices can direct Lydia to more responsible gentlemen, it is in our best interests.” Mary said. “At the least, we know the gentlemen surrounding Mr. Hawthorne are respectable.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I will ready myself. Kitty, tell Lydia we are leaving for Meryton and she is welcome to join us. Mary, I’m not certain if I like the new assertive lady, but she is the perfect complement to Mr. Brook.” Mary beamed proudly and pushed out her chest. “The new Mary stays. The old Mary retires to the past. Sisters Unanimous.”

“Sisters Unanimous.” Kitty seconded.

“Sisters Unanimous.” Mary resigned. “Go. I’ll ready myself as well. Inviting Mama along can’t hurt.”

They exchanged worried expressions and went their separate directions, each on a mission determined to see the success of the others.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sisters learn something new about Lydia and they plot a party.

Their mother declined the invitation to enter Meryton while Lydia thrilled at the idea of encountering the Corbyns and meeting the new gentlemen with her sisters’ blessing.

Disturbed by an unshared truth, Elizabeth said nothing as Mary and Kitty brimmed with hope of meeting their favorite gentlemen in town. Lydia spoke of nothing but handsome faces and finding the perfect husband in naivety worthy of a spoon-fed schoolgirl. They bumbled along, and Lydia mentioned previously befriending Miss Lancolm and already meeting two of the companions.

“But they are not as handsome as Mr. Hawthorne. He hopes to woo another lady who does not live here.” Lydia shared in the hopes of earning her sisters’ undivided attention.

“As we are aware.” Kitty grumbled.

Elizabeth hoped Jane was in a safe place and happy with the direction her life took. At least one of them escaped Longbourn. “What do you know of Mr. Hawthorne, Lydia? When we speak he only asks of Archwood Coven.”

“And evades your questions.” Kitty said.

“It is troubling but not a crime.” Elizabeth mused. Plagued with stiffness and lack of motivation most of the morning, she wanted to be productive and found nothing to properly amuse her. Letters and walking the house dulled her sharp wit and walking to Meryton restored a fraction of that hope. “Privacy is a luxury when neighbors pry and attempt to convince you to marry their nieces and daughters.”

Mary laughed at the truth. “Oh, Lizzy.”

“I feel for the opposite sex at times. The responsibility they must bear to raise a family.” Elizabeth said, lost in heady needs she never thought she needed before now. “Perhaps we place too much on their shoulders. Crush their free spirits.”

“Those of lower income.” Kitty sighed. “Mr. Darcy can be a boy at heart the rest of his life because of his enviable wealth.”

They neared the gate of Meryton, spotting the stables and the usual gag of men conversing about the day’s expectations and trading trends.

“Miss Bennets!” Their aunt’s servant ran up to them with a basket on her arm filled with fresh vegetables. “A rare surprise for your aunt.”

“We are here to visit- “Mary protested.

Lydia clapped her hands and squealed. “I must tell Aunt that Miss Lancolm invited me to travel with her once she marries. I intend to accept- “

“You will not accept!” Elizabeth snapped. “You know nothing of Miss Lancolm’s betrothed or his companions. Their profession is to hunt down the supernaturals.”

Lydia distanced herself from her sisters staring at her in clear disapproval. “And Jane is soon to marry one. Your heart- “

“Irrelevant, Lydia.” Elizabeth eyed up the servant trapped in their company and regretting it. “We know nothing of these gentlemen. It’s too dangerous for you to travel with Miss Lancolm. A lady must protect her reputation and carefully select who she trusts outside of blood.”

Kitty and Mary nodded enthusiastically, learning this lesson the hard way not too long ago when their childhood friends left Hertfordshire and then proceeded to speak poorly of them counties northbound. They learned of the betrayal after receiving a letter and a chance encounter with one of the ladies and a newfound friend who let it slip.

The servant turned to Mary and Kitty for an answer.

“We will call on our aunt before returning to Longbourn.” Kitty promised.

Lydia squared off with Elizabeth, all of Meryton swirling around them as if they were another group of ladies inconsequential to the daily activities. “Why am I not allowed to be happy?”

“You are.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “To wander into the arms of strangers- “

“Like you staying at Netherfield Park?” Lydia stepped closer.

“You know Jane asked me to be her proprietary escort.” Elizabeth’s jaw clenched.

Mary showed Elizabeth away from the growing argument while Kitty walked Lydia to their favorite milliner shop. “Are you well?” She whispered.

“Lydia blindly walks into company without regard for her own wellbeing.” Elizabeth wiped away a tear. “She yearns for attention – the wrong attention and it is ruining us.”

“And water is wet.” Mary said sarcastically. Almost letting it slip, Elizabeth tucked Jane’s secret back in the depths of her overworked restraints and offered a hug. Mary sunk into her arms, and they allowed themselves the brief relief. “We can change her. I promise.” Mary playfully tugged on her curled tendril.

“I must sound stubborn and foolish.”

“No.” Mary squeezed her hand. “You are the most vocal.”

Composing herself, Elizabeth envisioned a future with Mr. Darcy. “Mrs. Darcy, what is for dinner tonight?” “Mrs. Darcy, when will Mr. Darcy be back from fishing?” “Mrs. Darcy, what seamstress made your new gown?” Breathing easier, she smiled at Mary.

Mary leaned on her. “Lizzy, what if Mrs. Brook refuses to let Mr. Brook marry me?”

“She is a fool.”

“And if she does?” Mary worried.

“She will not.” Elizabeth vowed. “Everyone can see you are perfect for each other.”

They lapsed into silence and soon found Kitty and Lydia swooning over new bonnets. It appeared the argument forgotten because Lydia tried dressing Elizabeth in several new hats. Their merry party cornered with another large party, Miss Lancolm and her visiting cousins.

The party of ladies migrated to the Phillips, avoiding the Corbyns and Mrs. Brook altogether. They played cards well into the afternoon. The large party dwindled down to the Phillips and Bennets after Miss Lancolm and cousins returned home to entertain Mr. Huxley, her betrothed.

“I should tell Mama about traveling with Miss Lancolm. She will be so pleased!” Lydia flitted around the drawing room avoiding the vaguely annoyed sisters. “I will find my own husband before Lizzy and Mary!”

Aunt Phillips already forbid her children from attending the impromptu gathering, therefore Lydia threatened only herself in the current moment.

“Papa must approve first, Lydia.” Kitty warned.

Waved off, Lydia stuck her tongue out at Elizabeth. Wordlessly pleading with her aunt for help, Elizabeth celebrated Mary and Kitty’s support - one small comfort in a world seemingly designed to ambush them at every opportunity. Their aunt said nothing, staring after Lydia in the same resignation their mother and father practiced.

She bit down on her pride and cornered the negotiations at the cost of her own happiness. “Perhaps we should call upon Mr. Hawthorne, Lydia. If you are determined to join Miss Lancolm, I insist on introductions. You know Papa listens to me.” If they were unable to dissuade her, they would protect her.

A conflicted Lydia measured each person.

Aunt Phillips leaned in. “Why not host a party, Lizzy?”

Mary seized on the idea. “Mr. Brook can work from their secrecy the truth.”

“And Mr. Barnett.” Kitty beamed. “Thank you, Aunt.”

Leaning back and contributing minimum effort to the noble cause, Aunt Phillips considered her job well done. Elizabeth picked at her nails and soon suggested they recruit their mother to convince their father to approve of the plan. Mrs. Bennet drowned in the planning, and they plopped the plan on Mr. Bennet’s lap over a simple dinner.

He listened to the sales pitch, eagerly encouraging each lady to add to it after Mrs. Bennet promised the sun and moon if he only agreed. Lydia sang nothing but praise for Miss Lancolm, and Kitty volunteered Mr. Barnett as the gentleman after her heart. Mary idly mentioned the Corbyns to Elizabeth, asking about how to invite them for afternoon tea when their father announced to the table that if Mary wanted the company he would approve the party.

“But I- “

“You are the next daughter to marry.” Mr. Bennet folded his hands on his lap. “Your opinion is the one to respect.”

Elizabeth handed over emptied dishes to the servants, pleased to not be referred to.

Flattered, Mary clutched her prayer book in clammy hands. “Thank you, Papa, but Mr. Brook is not likely to offer marriage on a short courtship. Lizzy is more likely to marry before I am. Mr. Darcy fawns over her every time they share a room.”

“I disagree.” Elizabeth said. “We are two different worlds.”

“I know what adoration is, Lizzy, and he is enamored with you. Quite taken in by your charms.” Mary insisted. “You should invite him.”

“I- “

“I second that, Mary. Kitty, extend an invitation to Mr. Barnett. He does you due credit, and Mr. Brook and family are welcome to attend, Mary. I insist. A man such as he, God’s messenger, will surely offer marriage within the next year.” Mr. Bennet nodded to his wife, speechless at his lack of resistance, and turned to Lydia. “You will not extend the invitation to Mr. Hawthorne and company. I will personally call upon the man and extend it myself.”

Clapping ecstatically, Mrs. Bennet ushered her daughters to the drawing room to plot the perfect party in full glory. They planned the menu around the seasonal ingredients, Mrs. Hill sending in Lucy to take notes on what she needed to order the cook buy, and handwrote the invitations the following morning before and after breakfast. Charlotte and Maria Lucas called on them, adding to the growing anticipation. The ladies laid out their wardrobe and argued about which dress best complemented their skin and hair and occupied the Lucas sisters until they needed to return home to a mother eager to claim one of Mr. Hawthorne’s companions as a son-in-law.

“Oh, Lizzy!” Kitty danced around the bedroom with her favorite jonquil dress “Is Mr. Barnett a proper choice?”

Elizabeth looked up from her needlepoint she worked on whenever the mood struck. “I believe so. From my limited interactions with him, he is respectable, pleasing to the eyes, and his income is rising. Plus, you won’t live in London. What is to be unhappy about?” She envied Kitty’s accessible choice.

Laying the dress on the bed, Kitty paired shawls with the pretty yellow. “What of Mr. Darcy?”

“To be honest, Kitty, I am happy to daydream about the future that will never be. Mr. Darcy seeks a wealthy equal. I am not that, nor will I ever be. I permit myself to love him against all warnings.”

“Hush.” Mary tossed a bonnet at her and missed. “You’re depressing us.”

“Where is Lydia?” Elizabeth asked.

“She’s with Mama in Meryton.” Mary answered. “Aunt Phillips is trying to change her for the better. Our uncle refuses to acknowledge her presence.”

They fell silent and enjoyed the messy room and the current memories that buffeted the reality. One could sing and dance and laugh with friends, but that didn’t draw in a wealthy husband. Stabbing the cloth aggressively, Elizabeth sat upright and faced Kitty. “The jonquil dress with the evening primrose shawl. It makes you glow, Kit. Mary, wear the cerulean blue. It’s not horribly washed out yet, and you should wear it because it pleases you. Mr. Brook likes you as you are.”

“You haven’t met Mrs. Brook.” Mary paled.

“She’s right, Lizzy. Mrs. Brook is the worst imaginable mother-in-law.” Kitty stacked the dresses and placed them back in the hope trunk at the end of her bed.

“Yes, Kit, let’s talk Mary out of a marriage to the most handsome parson in England.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Mary, how awful is she?”

Mary and Kitty traded dark looks.

Resigning herself to the unfortunate possibility that Mary might inherit an awful mother-in-law, Elizabeth helped clean up the mess before they were summoned for dinner. They found a bottle green bonnet in the pile of shawls and sashes.

“I forgot to return this to Jane…”

Elizabeth teared up instantly, her chest yanking all the repressed anger and loss she somehow buried under politeness and distraction.

“Could you return it? You travel to Netherfield often, Lizzy?” Kitty held it out to her.

Mary transferred it from Kitty’s hand to Elizabeth’s. “We can always write Jane, Lizzy.”

Nodding, Elizabeth wiped away the tears and blew her nose in the nearest handcloth. They showed her out of the bedroom and once the door closed, nodded to each other. Come what may, they would find happiness – awful future mothers-in-law and otherwise.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Darcy and Mr. Archwood are invited to the party and Mrs. Brook openly disapproves of Mary.

The party came to fruition more quickly than the sisters counted on. Anticipation stomped over any doubts and second thoughts in the Bennet household, and contented to enjoy the calm of the storm, Mrs. Hill welcomed it all with open arms.

The day of the party, Mr. Archwood and Mr. Darcy visited Longbourn and gained an immediate audience with an overly opportunistic Mr. Bennet. Ten minutes into the face to face meeting, Mr. Bennet ordered Elizabeth into the study.

He stared down his daughter in cold detachment. “Mr. Archwood informs me that Jane was a willing blood source to Mr. Bingley.”

Elizabeth maintained the flat expression. “Jane loved Mr. Bingley.” Her heart stopped momentarily. “Papa, if she chose to become blood bound through immortal bonds, who am I judge? As the holy book states, we must not pass judgment.” Falling back on religion to argue her point proved easier than she realized.

“Were you aware?” Her father demanded.

Her mood sank like a fishing lure. “I was made aware,” She glanced at Mr. Archwood principally. “We felt it best to protect Jane’s reputation. Mrs. Ariti and I. The heart will commit amazing acts for peace of mind.”

Her father lifted his head, studied her a moment longer, and turned to an emotionless Mr. Darcy. “Your mother will not believe it.” He said directly to Elizabeth in challenge.

“I barely believed it.” Elizabeth lied. “But Jane sincerely loved him, and they were low on imported bloodwine. It was time for her.”

Do not question me. Do not question me. Do not question me.

Mr. Bennet dropped into his chair. “Have the party guests arrived?”

“Mr. Barnett, Mr. Brook and family are in the sunroom.” She answered. “Kitty and Mary are entertaining.”

“In the sunroom?” He sounded confused.

“Mama is rearranging the drawing room.” Elizabeth explained.

Mr. Bennet shuffled papers on his desk. “Join your sisters. Mr. Archwood, Mr. Darcy, you are welcome to attend. Miss Lancolm is insistent Lydia become her lady companion. Elizabeth distrusts Mr. Hawthorne’s company so we are luring their confidence. Is she not beautiful and of strong mind?” He practically shoved her at them.

She blushed. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Do not thank me, Lizzy. Mrs. Ariti wishes you to stay at Netherfield Park as a lady companion and I agreed.” Her father gloated freely and grinned at the gentlemen crowded into his study. “Your mother will also agree and after today Lydia will be permitted to travel with Miss Lancolm after she is married to Mr. Huxley.”

Elizabeth paled. “Papa, we do not know Mr. Hawthorne and company. They are no more trustworthy at this moment than the militia.” She protested.

“I agree, but Miss Lancolm is trustworthy.” Her father motioned her to return to the party while he conversed with Mr. Archwood. Mr. Darcy joined her as a ghostly shadow, regal and emotionally detached.

They stopped outside of the sunroom.

“Miss Bennet, we will- “

“Mr. Darcy,” Her heart rate toyed with her pride. “Lydia will embarrass us all.”

He bowed his head. “You have my condolences.”

She relaxed. “it will not matter soon.”

Voices filtered through the cracked door. Easy laughter escaped and Elizabeth froze at the touch of a hand on her arm. She looked up into the intense gaze of Mr. Darcy, temporarily spellbound. He blinked and the door popped open. Kitty pulled them into the room and Mr. Darcy stood against the wall idly to observe in supreme irritation.

A sleigh settee and several footstools dotted the center of the sunroom. An armchair next to each window allowed the occupant a prime choice of seating depending on their preferred view and activity of choice. Three paintings spotted the emerald green walls, each an astonishingly well-done piece from the hands of Jane, Kitty, and Lydia. They used this room rarely, and for once, Elizabeth wondered why the drawing room was more popular when this room clearly provided an amazing view of the property.

“Miss Corbyn, Mr. Corbyn. Mrs. Brook.” Mary made the introductions for Elizabeth. The Corbyn twins strongly resembled Mr. Brook, so much so that Elizabeth double taked and compared them to Mr. Brook across the room. “This is the elusive Elizabeth, Mrs. Brook.”

A frowning elder woman dressed in dark and sized up Elizabeth. Mary clutched onto her older sister in exceptional pride, and Elizabeth lost herself, positive energy smothering any regrets she harbored about today’s festivities.

“I am told you are the last proper sister by more than one local of Meryton.” Mrs. Brook announced as if it were fact.

The negative energy bypassed the sisters and smacked Mr. Darcy wide awake. He turned his ear to the woman and her criticism while glancing over the other gentlemen in the room and Kitty’s improved behavior.

Mary’s fingers pinched exposed arm.

Bowing her head, Elizabeth prayed. When she lifted her head, Mrs. Brook continued to bore a hole through her head. “Ma’am, I would like to believe that you, as much for your age as your son’s chosen profession, believe in forgiveness, second chances, and would carry yourself in such a manner. How you object to Mary I do not know, but my sister is as pious as your son. If you object to her dowry amount, it is you who must remember your son relies on benefactors.”

Thin lips quivered and Mrs. Brook fixed her gaze on her son purposefully conversing with Kitty and Mr. Barnett as far away as possible.

Harriet and Henry Corbyn stepped back from Brook family matron.

“Mary, check on the tea and coffee.” Elizabeth shooed the middle sister away and squared off with Mrs. Brook. “I have heard the most favorable report of Mr. Corbyn. A promising military career. Miss Corbyn courted by a barrister. What a fortune.” Her tone shifted enough that the edge cut through the air like Mrs. Ariti’s handling of Mrs. Bennet.

“And no assistance from John to achieve it.” Mrs. Brook turned her head up and seated herself next to the window.

“Miss Bennet.” Miss Corbyn curtsied and hurried to her aunt’s side.

“Mr. Corbyn, might I introduce you to Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth offered.

He willingly followed her the short distance. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Henry Corbyn, cousin to Mr. John Brook.” Mrs. Brook watched them from the window, ready to pounce like a disapproving grandmother. Elizabeth slipped away from the gentlemen before they held her back and asked questions she felt ill at ease to answer.

Leaving the unhappy ladies to their chosen isolation and Mr. Corbyn to Mr. Darcy’s selectively charming company, Elizabeth joined Kitty and Mr. Barnett hovering in front a painting of flowers Kitty completed a year prior. “Your blending of the blues and purples are fluid and show a concentrated effort.”

“Lizzy helped.” Kitty blushed.

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Brook who gave the handsome pair the proper space to connect. “Nonsense.” She waved her hand. “I merely advised.”

Mr. Barnett smiled easily. “Miss Catherine is more talented than she’ll admit to. I do not know why. There is no shame in being proud.” His green eyes swept over Kitty in open admiration.

Yes, quite a strange development for someone who previously boasted of her antics with Lydia, Elizabeth decided. Perhaps Kitty should remember that a little pride hurt no one. Now, if one were to advance it as far as Mr. Darcy’s mountain of pride, she may need to reign it in for fear of the opposite end of the spectrum.

“I believe her pride has shifted, Mr. Barnett.” Elizabeth looked Mr. Barnett in the eye and prayed he did not receive the information the wrong way. Of all the times communication needed to be perfect, now was it. “She is a new person these past few weeks.”

“I do not believe it!” Mr. Barnette exclaimed. “She is flawless, and I find it difficult to envision a lady of different character.”

Mary’s laughter joined the chorus of merriment as she latched onto Elizabeth again. Kitty studied her slippers intensely, unable to look up completely for the next several minutes as Elizabeth brushed off Mr. Barnett’s fascination with brief descriptions of Kitty’s emerging maturity. Bravery overtook the embarrassed Catherine Bennet and she tugged Mr. Barnett along to point out Jane’s painting of the tree line and sky.

“Lizzy, what did you say to Mrs. Brook?” Mary whispered.

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Brook, who failed at trying to appear disinterested in their conversation. “I simply told her that she should not disapprove of you.” They glanced over their shoulders at the woman ready to bury them. “She is not as frightening as she wants to appear.”

A shiver dominated Mary, and she clung to Elizabeth tighter.

“Do not worry about the woman. She does not know you as I do.” She guided Mary to Mr. Brook. “Sir, if you would kindly amuse Miss Mary, I have my mother to check on.”

Parson Brook bowed his head. “Bless you, Miss Bennet.”

“No, Mr. Brook, bless you.” Elizabeth curtsied and escaped the sunroom, overcome with the need to breathe air not shared by a host of individuals sharing in neither blood nor loyalty. Keeping her word, she discovered her mother ordering the servants to move the settee repeatedly – first near the window, then in the middle of the room, then by the other window. “Mama, we have company in the other room.” She knocked on the door.

Ignoring her daughter, Mrs. Bennet crossed her arms and pat down frizzy hair.

“Mama.” Elizabeth hovered at her side in concern. “Are you well?”

“Yes. Why would I be unwell? You are silly, child.”

She worried for her mother, especially if she ever learned about Jane’s true transformation story. “The only guests yet to arrive are Mr. Huxley, Mr. Stone, and Mr. Selkirk.”

“Best then that your sisters are surrounded by gentlemen who will affect their future.” Her mother argued. “Why are you not in the sunroom wooing Mr. Darcy?”

Because their love defied the social expectations? Because Elizabeth understood a lady ought to force the first move on the gentleman, not the gentleman to demand a lady violate delicate sensibilities. Because the idea of Mr. Darcy kneeling at her feet, while overwhelming a lovesick heart, frightened her.

She stepped away from her mother and moved two baskets of threads and needlepoints in-progress. Servants worked around her and stood back to allow Mrs. Bennet another commanding view of the principal room in the house.

“I still don’t like it.”

“Mama, the space will not change. You need to pick a layout and accept it.”

“And you need to marry Mr. Darcy to relieve your father and I.” Her mother said. “Go. Woo him.”

Refusing to suffer under Mrs. Brook’s evil glare, Elizabeth selfishly stood her ground. “Mama, everyone is sufficiently occupied in the sunroom- “

Pushed out of the drawing room and in the vestibule with Mr. Archwood and her father, she faced the men hesitantly. Her father looked at her differently, and it pained her to know he believed she betrayed him.

“Miss Bennet, how tormented is Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Archwood asked, his good will gradually shifting the coldness distancing father and daughter.

She hesitated. “He was speaking with Mr. Corbyn last I saw.”

The men exchanged a bored look. “A glass of brandy, Mr. Archwood?”

“Papa, Mr. Huxley and party are not arrived.”

Mr. Bennet nodded. “Mr. Hawthorne mentioned they might be arriving a half hour late. Business in Meryton.” He motioned Mr. Archwood back into the study, abandoning Elizabeth to the hell of being in the middle of everything without an anchor or savior to help her. Gathering her wits, she composed herself and decided to overtake Mr. Darcy’s attentions.

A woman ought to attempt her heart’s desires, even if they would never become reality.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues.

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Corbyn freely conversed when Elizabeth returned to the sunroom. An easiness in Mr. Darcy’s smile and open expression warmed her troubled soul, and Mr. Corbyn’s reciprocated amiability reassured her that Mary would not be unwelcomed by all of Mr. Brook’s family.

She bravely stepped forward and remembered Mr. Darcy was just a man. “Mr. Corbyn, how do you find the party?” Standing next to Mr. Darcy as naturally as possible, she tried to lose herself in the aura of the gentleman. Nagging responsibility and reality anchored the resistance to the dream she dearly desired.

“Charmingly simple. I tire of large groups, and my aunt tries to introduce me to as many young ladies as possible. Do not hate me, Miss Bennet, but I can not remember the name of every lady she acquaints me with.”

She laughed, relating all too well. “You are not alone, sir, in forgetting names. My mother is equally meddlesome.”

“But not nearly so as your aunt.”

“Aunt Phillips is the definition of meddlesome.” Elizabeth laughed again. “I am glad you find relief in Meryton. Will you be joining the Regiment soon?”

“Yes.” He thrust his chest out. “I look forward to it. My father and grandfather served, and so I must uphold the tradition.”

“An only son?” An heir and spare, and if the lady were unfortunate, each child presented the opportunity to die.

He bowed his head. “Unfortunately.” His voice broke and recovered just as quickly. “My father perished shortly after our mother birthed Harriet and I. My aunt raised us.” He nodded to Mrs. Brook. Elizabeth imagined they must have been a handful, remembering Kitty and Lydia tearing up the cleaned house in a matter of minutes. Her, Jane, and Mary weren’t better – they simply moved to different social groups quicker than Kitty or Lydia.

Not liking the train of thought and worrying that Lydia did something foolish to not be in current attendance, she collected herself and presented a proper cheerful front. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Corbyn, would you care for tea?” She asked.

“Do you remember how I prefer it?” Mr. Darcy said in a distinctly softer tone.

Her heart skipped. “Mr. Darcy,” She pressed her palm to her chest. “My memory of names may be spotty occasionally, but I’d like to believe I remember how to prepare your tea after sharing the same roof as you for a fortnight.”

Staying out of the squabble, Mr. Corbyn enjoyed the playful exchange.

Advancing toward a table with the tea tray and tea pot filled with freshly hot water, she glanced over the milk and honey.

“Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy shifted to her side, abandoning Mr. Corbyn without proper excusal. “I meant no offense.”

She would have relaxed and laughed at him had Mrs. Brook not stared them down. She allowed herself to smile. “You are neglecting Mr. Corbyn, Mr. Darcy.”

An anxious Mr. Darcy anchored at her side. “I do not wish to offend you, Miss Bennet.”

She sighed happily. “You did not offend me. To be honest, I am a loose bundle of nerves with Mr. Hawthorne and company.” Firm hands dropped tea shavings into the cup and then poured in the hot water.

His face twitched sympathetically. “They are gentlemen.”

Noting his lowered voice, she nodded. Mrs. Brook and Miss Corbyn panned the room and inevitably returned to them because they were closest. “Your tea needs to steep.” She answered and brushed him away. Catching Mrs. Brook’s gaze, she cocked a brow in question. The woman turned away, and Miss Corbyn chattered about weather and Meryton, the one-sided conversation turning two-sided after Miss Long and Miss King were mentioned. Delivering the tea to Mr. Darcy she faced Mr. Corbyn again ready to ask about John Brook when Mr. Hawthorne and company entered the room.

A familiar set of faces appeared in the mix of unfamiliar gentlemen, and Elizabeth relaxed. Perhaps now Mrs. Brook will direct her judgment elsewhere. Lydia’s head appeared in the back, and Mr. Darcy stepped in front of Elizabeth, effectively hiding her from direct view.

“And embarrassment starts.” Elizabeth muttered under her breath. “Heavens help us.”

“Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy turned to her. “Would you care for a walk?”

Her bones ached and she did not want to face the fresh air. “To where, Mr. Darcy?” She joked. “The weather does not bode well, and I am required to guard over Kitty and Mary. Lydia will be encouraged by Mama and Papa may not even make an appearance. I am obligated.”

He accepted his tea. “A brave mission.”

She glowed. “Indeed, sir, but more so Lydia will be traveling with Miss Lancolm. I must assess the character quality of the gentlemen she will be near.” Foolish, foolish Lydia.

“The tea is perfect.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Containing the satisfaction to a mere outward appearance of happiness, she noticed Mrs. Brook side eyeing her. “Mr. Darcy, what do you know about the parson’s mother? She appears to hate us Bennets.”

Multiple conversations battered her ears, and she wished the room less crowded. It felt like London in the sunroom, and she preferred an empty road to this. A lady with a mission demanded she stay here and face the demons head on. Her heart wished for nothing more than a quiet walk with Mr. Darcy and an escort, and her head…she did not know where to look. Mary and Kitty welcomed the attentions of their gentlemen, and Lydia hadn’t embarrassed herself…yet. She wanted to speak with Miss Corbyn but Mrs. Brook looked ready to cleave her head from her shoulders.

He studied the small invading party. “Mr. Brook is the heiress of a small, now depleted fortune. She lost a son on the colonies soil and Mr. Brook is the only male to continue the bloodline.” He answered without hesitation.

“May I ask how you know this?” She reminded herself that Mr. Darcy was a gentleman first, immortal second. Intelligent enough to use his head and not his rash anger and ego, Mr. Darcy presented well to every lady. A small part of her celebrated his sense of agency.

He cleared his throat. “Research. Naturally.”

“He is remarkably similar in appearance to Mr. Corbyn.” She followed Mr. Corbyn’s path to the party and listened to the string of introductions and Lydia’s giggling. Mrs. Lancolm broke away from the gaggle and introduced herself to Mrs. Brook, the elders instantly disregarding Miss Corbyn.

Mr. Darcy placed the empty cup back on the tray. A servant shuffled around the gentlemen with a tray of small sandwiches. “His father was an identical twin.”

“Poor Mary.”

“Twins in the Bennet family.” Mr. Darcy teased. “The reputation will never recover.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Envisioning dark haired toddlers tearing through Longbourn wearing matching outfits with Mary shouting their full names, she could only think of Mr. Brook observing it coolly over the top of his bible or desk. They made a perfect pair.

“Mr. Barnett is of lower rank and his family is happily situated. Their futures appear bright.” He whispered. “Miss Catherine is a perfect match for him.”

“If it yields fruit, Mr. Darcy, if.” She warned. “Not all gentlemen are Mr. Bingley.”

They fell silent and claimed the settee before the rest of the party wisened. Mary attached herself to Elizabeth to avoid Miss Lancolm and Lydia, and Mr. Brook dropped onto a chair moved away from the window. Both snuck sneaky glances at each other while listening to the new chatter explode around them.

“Lizzy, do you want a cup of tea?” Mary asked nervously.

“Yes.” Elizabeth answered. Aware of Miss Lancolm and Mrs. Brook spying on them, she prayed that her mother distracted the women. Only then would Mr. Darcy be truly at ease.

Mary busied herself and perfectly ignored the women, an enviable talent Elizabeth lacked at the minute.

Their mother mercifully saved them a moment later. “Mrs. Lancolm! I thought you would never arrive! Come! I have the drawing room ready, and we need to talk of Lydia’s wardrobe.” Elizabeth pitied the family’s expected loss of income over a child’s ‘need’ for new dresses.

Mrs. Lancolm met Mrs. Bennet halfway across the room. “Mrs. Brook, we require your opinion your have traveled more than us.”

Mary grimaced, slyly watching the three.

Mrs. Bennet looped arms with Mrs. Lancolm, the pair already neck deep in scheming. Mrs. Brook snapped her fingers at Miss Corbyn. The lady followed in absolute misery ignored by everyone.

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth breathed. The cold anger left the room with Mrs. Brook. “I have a bonnet for Jane. Could you please return it to her?”

“I can.”

Mr. Brook said nothing, easing back into his chair and noting the shifting of gentlemen. Mr. Barnett and Kitty conversed with them freely. Spreading throughout the room and quickly emptying the tea pot and coffee, a servant resupplied them with more a few minutes later.

Elizabeth summoned the courage to speak. “Mr. Brook, might I inquire about Mr. Huxley?” She tried to pick out the gentleman she thought to be Mr. Huxley, but no one repeated the name and they all appeared equally capable of being the betrothed man. Muscular and well dressed and with a scar each, she wondered at how they earned the markings and if their profession was incredibly dangerous.

Of course, it was! It made sense why Lydia preferred them – the adventure and thrill seeking that Lydia preferred, always speaking about marrying an officer and irritating their father when he didn’t poke at her idiocy.

Mary delivered two cups of tea – one to Elizabeth and one to Mr. Brook. Lydia and Miss Lancolm attempted to pull Mr. Barnett from Kitty, foiled by Mr. Barnett gushing over Kitty’s pretty smile and tinkling laughter. A dirty look bypassed Kitty completely as she blushed and played coy. Elizabeth wanted to repeat Charlotte’s advice about securing a gentleman’s attentions and caught herself.

Was she willing to support the absurd advice? That a lady should enforce the belief her heart was captured by the gentleman regardless of personal feelings. For someone not her, perhaps she ought to.

“A perfectly respectable gentleman who investigates the supernatural.” Mr. Brook answered.

Quelling her disappointment, she nodded. “And his comrades?”

Sensing a plot, Mr. Brook held up a hand. “I can not speak for the gentlemen, but they are here.” He smiled at her, his answer a persuasive, firm no with all the resolve of parson and none of the vicious bite his mother’s eyes promised.

She acknowledged the put down and quietly sipped her tea while it was warm. Absorbing the flooding of newfound information without putting effort into collecting it, she found herself escaping into the conversation about sermon making and Mary’s possible future at the parsonage. Her ears perked up and Mary’s faced reddened on cue, and Mr. Darcy cleared his throat deeply before a hopeful Mr. Brook tried to subtly hint at his interests.

“Mr. Darcy, would you care to join me in the corridor? I dare not go outside or the drawing room and I can scarcely breathe in here.” Elizabeth lied.

Not needing another nudged, they excused themselves from the sunroom and exited the noisy chamber. Lydia’s loud laughter bellowed over the constant soft mist of voices, and Elizabeth reminded herself the party was a temporary event, and no one thought well of the twit.

“Miss Bennet, if I am correct in what I have witnessed, it may soon be two sisters married.” Mr. Darcy said, an infectious happiness seeped from him and she soaked it up willingly. She adored him, more than he’d ever know. The depth of her devotion surprised even her! “I may visit him tomorrow at the parsonage and convince him to offer to sooner rather than later.”

She lost herself in the dream of bliss. “I think, sir, that she prefers the courtship to extend a little longer. It gives her power over Lydia, and Mama can not mock her for it. Mr. Brook is respectable and quite handsome.” She laughed at herself and checked her own admiration. Mr. Brook admired Mary, not her, and she preferred Mr. Darcy.

He nodded. “I will suggest a timeframe within a fortnight?” He asked permission.

The power in her hands, she agreed with a fortnight and prayed Mary said yes.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth deals with the loss of two sisters and struggles to find new ground to stand on.

The party cleared any doubt Elizabeth had about Mr. Darcy’s affections. Something felt wrong to her regardless, and it clarified days later when Lydia departed with Mrs. Huxley to Mr. Huxley’s home in Bristol. Without Lydia in the house to force their mother to ferry her back and forth to Meryton, Kitty, Mary and Elizabeth established a new schedule. Mr. Barnett visited with Mr. Hawthorne in tow and Mr. Brook called on Mary often enough that he ate dinner with the family twice a week.

Counting down the days before an expected offer of marriage, Elizabeth observed from afar.

She ached for company. To plot Elizabeth’s proper return to society without worrying about Jane or Lydia, Charlotte and Maria tried to return to status quo in valiant effort. She called on Miss Long and Miss Crown to renew lost bonds, and yet it plunged deeper bleeding out her patience.

In an act of desperation, she called on Mrs. Ariti at Netherfield Park after a week of Lydia’s initial day of departure and a day prior to her scheduled arrival to act as companionship to Mrs. Ariti and Miss Boording.

“Miss Bennet.” The housekeeper barely turned to order a servant to inform the family of her arrival when Mr. Archwood appeared next to Elizabeth like a ghost. “We were preparing your room for your arrival tomorrow. Would you wish to see it?”

She clutched her chest and roaded her thoughts into coherence. “I almost forgot about Mrs. Ariti’s request of my company. My mind has been with Lydia. I worry about her. Mr. Huxley is an enemy, and I know she will be asked many questions. I cannot help but worry about what I might have said or shared- “

His pleasant expression dropped. “Miss Bennet, you are free to speak as you wish about us. We have nothing to hide.”

“I know, but what if- “

“You can not prevent the soldier from firing his rifle anymore than you prevent the messenger from delivering a letter instructing him to fire the rifle. Every action takes place for a reason.” He assured her in a gentle voice she suspected he employed against all ladies in a mess of nerves. Goodness, she ought to wrangle them before they overcome her sensibilities! “We are all subject to our own destinies. I am only grateful you will be able to keep Miss Boording company. She needs younger company.”

“I often forget Mrs. Ariti’s age.” Elizabeth said. “I have not seen her at Longbourn either. Is she well?”

He bowed his head, amusement returning in a flash. “She insisted we persuade Mr. Darcy to offer a hand in marriage to you. Obstinate about it, actually. His behavior at the party is evidence he does care for you. More so than as an acquaintance.” Her heartbeat betrayed her. “He convinced Mr. Brook to offer to Mary, and as such the parson has made arrangements to surprise your sister.”

She pressed her gloved hands together overcome with temporary relief.

A pleasant quietness cast over them and a radiant Mrs. Ariti, dressed in a lavender tailcoat, white neck cloth, and a black waist coat pressing her breasts into submission, advanced towards them. Lavender pants tucked into hessian boots completed the fashion massacre. A mass of dark hair piled on top her head in a braided knot held in place by pins. Living for the color combination and wondering who dyed and tailored her clothing, Elizabeth admired the eccentric boldness.

“Miss Bennet!” Mrs. Ariti beamed, and Elizabeth shied from the size of her fangs. “You are early.”

She squared her shoulders. “Kitty and Mary are visiting with Miss Corbyn.”

“I’ve met the young lady. Her aunt is a paranoid woman.” Mrs. Ariti motioned for Elizabeth to walk with her. Mr. Archwood returned to the library and his manuscript being rewritten for the publisher. “Convinced someone will purposefully compromise her niece and taint the family. She tried to force Nagayasu to become acquainted with Miss Corbyn. We invited the family to dine with us, and after failed communication attempts, Miss Corbyn hid in the corner of the drawing room with her brother until Mrs. Brook returned to the parsonage. A most unpleasant woman.”

“She has a cruel stare, and I wonder at her intentions for her own son. She disapproves of Mary and if I am to disparage myself it is because I think highly of Mary. Out of us all, her only fault is her dedication to be a child of God.”

They roamed the corridors bypassing Mr. Cull in the music room experimenting with a new piece. The notes followed them like children, a happy reminder that life remained in the house with the loss of Jane and Mr. Bingley.

“Do not fret, Elizabeth – I may call you- “

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Ariti. You are the elder and my host, and we understand one another.” Elizabeth accepted her role, and she suspected the invitation to stay Netherfield was a ploy to force Mr. Darcy’s hand. She preferred that ploy because she as a female could not express her love for Mr. Darcy openly to him. It was unladylike, and she needed to wait for his expression of love before reciprocating. “As you were.”

The former ruler stopped them in front of a new portrait of Mr. Bingley and Jane. “Is her likeness in this acceptable?”

Staring at the portrait for two minutes without speaking, she finally found the words to express what she missed. Home. She missed the feeling of home. Charlotte became obsessed with finding a husband, more so than before, and Maria tried to woo the attentions of local men to fill the void her dead betrothed left behind. Miss Long and Miss Crown asked endless questions about the Archwood Coven and Mr. Hawthorne tried to verbally parry with her, but that too lacked a certain energy she needed to feel whole again.

What she needed – what she needed she could not achieve at this moment.

“It is.” She said to Mrs. Ariti. “Hair color is off, but it captures her beauty perfectly.”

“I thought it did as well. We had a miniature portrait made for her parents, but I am forbidden to set foot in Longbourn again. Will you deliver it when you return home?”

She calmed. “Mama’s opinion may change for your kindness.”

“I do not care for your mother’s kindness, Elizabeth. Only her nerves to be more sensible.”

They moved onward to a painting of Mrs. Ariti in Egyptian garb of a time past.

“This was me. I was a young immortal when I made Julian. History likes to say that it was roman senators who killed him, but when the body was removed, a little life remained in him for me to gift him with a new purpose. We changed our names as the times demanded. Being renowned isn’t always favorable. I fell in love with his mind, but his heart is truly pure. He loved his people so much so…well the path is graveled with good intentions.”

It dawned on Elizabeth exactly who she lived with and who she would soon live with again.

“I know that look. It’s why I stopped telling people who I was in the older days, but you know too much, and I feel I can speak to you. Lady to lady.” Mrs. Ariti smiled at her.

This whole time she was overshadowed by none other than the famous Cleopatra and Julius Caesar.

“You must have questions. Please ask them.” Mrs. Ariti encouraged.

Elizabeth gaped. “I do not know where to begin or what to ask. It is incredible. Was Shakespeare- “

“I know not of the man, but his works are famous.” She resumed walking and they could hear music once more as they came full circle too quickly in Elizabeth’s opinion. “My companion, Saji Nagayasu is from Japan, from the Sengoku and Edo period. I have met many fabled people of history, but history has a way of changing. Sadly, the truth is often a shred of the experience. We immortals keep our own records for that very reason.”

Outclassed and unable to reliably speak, Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Does Mr. Darcy know?”

“He is unaware of our true names and ages. If you were to keep it from his knowledge, we would be most pleased.” No threat lingered in the words, and it compelled the English lady to keep to that promise all the more. They mounted the steps to the second floor and the residential rooms. “Miss Boording planned an afternoon of games the day after you settle in.”

“I look forward to it.” Eyes forward, hand on railing she found it difficult to swallow and believe. Were they lying to her? How would she know if they were? Did she want to believe they were lying to her? “Mrs. Ariti- “

“You are family. You must call me Selene.” The woman insisted at the top of the steps.

The name stalled on her tongue until she braved forward. “Selene, why was Mr. Bingley made into an immortal? I do not mean to offend, but he is unlike Mr. Archwood and yourself and Mr. Darcy.” They strolled toward a room on the right-hand side, and Mrs. Ariti opened the door with a light push. The smaller bedroom featured a bed covered in a quilt, a bookshelf with the books Elizabeth picked out from the library on her first excursion of it, and a wardrobe for her dresses to hang.

Mrs. Ariti stayed in the doorway as Elizabeth admired the attention to detail. “It was not my choice, but Julian insisted he was an intelligent young man. He is, but his ability to hone that into a skill to keep himself alive has yet to be seen.” She shrugged, sounding as cold as Mrs. Brook.

“I hope, for Jane’s livelihood, he is capable.” Elizabeth said as she faced the woman. “Your sense of fashion is most…”

“I have lived a long, long time. My son is a distant memory, and now I live for the world and its many wonders. Fashion is a minor inconvenience for the vain. I am not vain enough to care if my neighbor thinks I dress like a man and ought to be cast out or called a witch and burned at the stake. I challenge them to try.” She laughed, and Elizabeth ignored the many questions summoned to the front of her mind. It demanded satisfaction, but not in this moment – no, she wanted to enjoy the honor layered in subtle ways.

She sat on the bed and picked at her nails. “Mrs. Ariti, may I borrow your confidence?”

The woman cocked her head. “Speak your mind. You clearly are troubled.”

Sadness lurked, ready to pounce on the vulnerable lady. “I miss Jane. Home is not home. Soon I am to lose Mary to the parsonage. Mama says I will be a spinster soon. My life is slipping from my fingers and I am at a loss of how to stop it.” She admitted in great embarrassment. “I visited today in hopes of speaking with a wise mind and a kind heart. I want to feel as if everything is right again in this world. I itch to have it calm again. Truly calm.”

Mrs. Ariti stepped into the room and closed the door. “You have my attention.”

Small in consequence to the elder, Elizabeth fumbled together the gist. “I almost wish I never met your family, Mrs. Ariti. If you had not arrived, I would still have Jane, and we would all be…unhappy and our mother introducing us to Mr. Hawthorne and company expecting an offer of marriage. I do not know why I miss that, because Mary and Kitty are happy, and Jane appeared to be happier before Mr. Bingley…” She sighed and tears slipped down her cheek. A lost little girl in a big bad world talking to the big bad world itself and nothing made her feel easy.

Was it meant to be like this? A fool on a fool’s errand.

“I do not regret meeting the Archwood Coven. I simply…I do not know! I feel a purpose, it nags at me, and I am drawn to Mr. Darcy. I do not know why or how I know it. In my heart, in my head, in my being, every breath…”

A hand rubbed her back. “Would you like to join us?”

“Mr. Darcy will not offer. I can not admit my love to him and expect him to still admire me. He is a gentleman and he expects me to act like a lady- “

“That is not what I offer.” Mrs. Ariti answered. “To join us. Be one of us.”

She froze.

“You would have no finer a teacher on how to exist in the world as immortal.” Mrs. Ariti said.

“I know.” She clenched her hands on her lap. “I have questions. Not about your past lives, but about the offer and its conditions. Will you answer them?”

“I would not offer if I could not answer them.” Mrs. Ariti assured her.

Heart in throat, mind rapidly returning to a profound sharpness, Elizabeth nodded. She asked every question that leapt to her tongue, measured answers meeting the random questions until she became a whole new person. Purpose trickled in.

_Home_. Mrs. Ariti offered a home – a home she needed and wanted.

“I know you have more questions, but you must eat – if only a snack while you’re here.” Mrs. Ariti insisted. “I will not tell the gentlemen of this offer until you are determined it is the right choice. You have my word.”

But she was certain, and her determination rammed her into the position she never thought she’d ever desire.

She stood and faced Mrs. Ariti, looked her in the eye, and nodded. “I wish to become a member of your family, Selene. If you accept my answer here and now, I will study the laws everyday dawn to dusk. I will not dishonor you or embarrass your coven, and I will not reveal your secret. To anyone.”

Two hands pressed to Elizabeth’s neck. Immortal peered into the eyes of a young English lady. A predatorial darkness resided in the depths. “I must speak with Julian, but I see no reason he’d object. You are his favorite Bennet. I cannot wait to show you the world, Miss Bennet. You will fall violently in love with it.” She smiled easily and the world lay at Elizabeth’s feet ready for the taking.

She dared to hope.

To believe!

More importantly, she envisioned a real future with Mr. Darcy.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Darcy receives the news and Elizabeth returns home one last time.

Minutes turned into an hour and anxiety nipped at her heels like an annoyingly exclusively bred dog. Diving into the law book she shunned before, obscure wording repelled all attempted interest.

“Miss Bennet.” A familiar voice broke through the cloud of motivation frustration.

She started. “Mr. Darcy.” Manners prodded at her. “Please sit. If you wish to sit. You are under no obligation to, but if you want to, I do not object.” She rushed to speak, face burning. Uncurling her legs, she crossed her ankles delicately and clutched the law book in her lap.

He glanced around the sitting room. Confirming only Elizabeth sat in the room, he hovered into the doorframe. “I would not wish to compromise- “

Please do, Elizabeth thought, end my misery.

“-your reputation.” Holding a top hat in his hand, he looked afraid of her. “Should I summon a servant for tea?”

She checked her progress in the book. Three pages. Three whole pages!! “Tea will not make this easier to read but I appreciate the gesture.” Determined to keep the word to Mrs. Ariti proved more difficult than she expected. Hopefully the lessons Jane endured were not as dry as this law book.

His eyes flicked to the cover. “I can list the laws I am well versed on.”

Tempted to accept the offer, she closed it and gently placed it on the arm of the settee. “No. Again, I appreciate the gesture.” This awkwardness disrupted her happiness, and her longing to hang on his arm and hear him say her full name thrust her in a position she was learning to despise. She was acting like a silly young lady – another Lydia, except more mature.

“Have I upset you, Miss Bennet?” He shifted his hat to the other hand.

She shook her head. “It is not you, Mr. Darcy. I am distracted and in need of a purpose. I have always protected Jane or corrected Lydia or- “She pressed a hand to her forehead. “-tried to rein in Kitty and convince Mary to take up different interests. Now I am without a sister to guide.” She huffed and stared hard at a door across the corridor.

Mr. Darcy followed the direction. “What happened?”

“Mrs. Ariti offered to make me an immortal.” Elizabeth told the truth. “She is speaking with Mr. Archwood as we speak.”

He deadpanned.

She breathed deeply, wishing he said something. “I accepted, Mr. Darcy.”

The world stopped, and God himself parted the clouds to their game of hide and seek.

Mr. Darcy bowed his head, lips trembling.

The door creaked open and Elizabeth was on her feet. Mr. Archwood cut her off a few feet from Mr. Darcy. “Miss Bennet, it is your true wish?” An awkward Mr. Darcy fingered the rim of his hat and avoided looking at her. It wounded her.

She nodded.

“You wish to join the Archwood Coven.” Mr. Archwood stated.

She glanced at Mr. Darcy and frowned. “Yes, Mr. Archwood.” Why was he not lost in the joy? They could marry without anyone raising a brow at it. The dream – at her fingertips – taunted her, demanded she act. And she acted! What more could she do for the gentleman to act?

He turned to Mr. Darcy. “I have no objections. Do you, Fitzwilliam?”

He finally looked at her, except the shield blocked any reading of his emotional state. “Miss Bennet displays a willingness to learn and a loyal commitment to family and self.”

“Yes or no.” Mrs. Ariti clenched her hands.

Elizabeth bet Mrs. Ariti wanted to strangle him because that’s how she felt.

“She will make an exceedingly respectable addition.” Mr. Darcy answered flatly.

The energy shifted. Mr. Darcy excused himself abruptly leaving her alone with the leaders of the Coven. Had she upset him? Mr. Archwood squeezed her hands. A surge of activity at the corner drew them to Mr. Darcy and Saji Nagayasu face to face in rapid hushed whispers.

A small hand rested on her arm. “Have you visited Scotland, Elizabeth?”

“No.” Elizabeth listened to them argue in French, the accents a distinct mismatch and oddly satisfying to hear. “I am eager to join Jane and be your willing companion.”

“No, Selene.” Julian said in a tone Elizabeth never heard him use before. It scared her more than she liked to admit. “You promised me twelve years without traveling again. Political tensions are on the rise and you take too many risks.” He whined. Wait, Mr. Archwood was capable of whining? How foreign an action for the gentleman, Elizabeth thought.

“Julian, I am wise to wait at least half a decade before dragging Miss Bennet.” They whispered. Elizabeth did not understand why as they likely heard each other across the short distance.

“I said no.”

The married couple bickered as happily married couples do and Mr. Darcy mad dashed up the stairs leaving Elizabeth to wonder what she did wrong. Saji Nagayasu bowed to her and strode toward the library as naturally as a royal floating through their own palace.

“It is decided.” Mr. Archwood declared at normal conversation volume. “You will return home and return tomorrow with the totality of your precious belongings. We will inform you of the plan to escort you to Scotland afterwards.”

Like an outsider to a new play, Elizabeth nodded along and bore all the guilt of causing the havoc.

A familiar overbearing enthusiasm thrust itself on her and she fell into Mrs. Ariti’s charms. “Are you prepared to visit Longbourn one last time?”

Her heart swelled.

“It is time.” She announced confidently.

Mrs. Ariti wrapped an arm around hers and beamed at her husband. “Julian, I will walk Miss Elizabeth to the carriage. You will speak with her father. After all, we ladies are not taken seriously unless we are older than five and twenty, and Mrs. Bennet does not want me in her home. Elizabeth must be alone with her thoughts and emotions, I am sure. A truly monumental decision that will change her life forever”

Elizabeth nodded. She said yes, partly to be with Mr. Darcy and partly due to the family she’d inherit. Except for Mr. Bingley, who irritated her consistently, she adored all of them. Her heart chose, and she’d never be at peace if she went against her heart.

Julian shook a finger at his wife, wished Elizabeth a pleasant evening, and returned to his manuscript, an ever-evolving headache that he griped about under his breath.

They walked to the stables, intercepted by the stable hand and sent back to the veranda to wait for the carriage. Elizabeth paced and paused, facing the lane again and remembering the first time she met Mrs. Ariti.

Not an entirely different person, but someone changed. That’s who she was – a changed lady with bigger dreams and horizons.

She credited Mrs. Ariti with opening her eyes.

She wanted more than her family and her own happiness. She longed for the freedom Mrs. Ariti possessed – a freedom she thought she possessed before the Archwood Coven arrived in Hertfordshire.

Elizabeth Bennet wanted to find herself again.

Clearly, she lost her way, or never found it, and if she truly wanted to be wholly content with Mr. Darcy, she needed to believe and trust in herself. She used her sisters as a crutch, and her friends mocked her unpopular opinions on love, marriage, social expectations for ladies and gentlemen…A fresh start. A fresh start and a new self before she bore the name Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth decided.

The carriage pulled around, the driver slightly disheveled.

Mrs. Ariti handed Elizabeth into the carriage and waved after her. Encountering her father in the study at Longbourn, she said hello before walking the empty house. Without Lydia to argue with Kitty, and Mary not playing her music, she mourned. Mr. Collins would inherit this home. Nothing of her would remain in these walls.

Standing alone in her room, she stared at her beat up trunk dejectedly.

Was this adjusting? She didn’t like it.

Adjusting shouldn’t be this painful and foreign. Maybe she needed foreign in her life. Maybe, just maybe, she ought to step out of the normal boundaries and embrace what appeals to her.

Immortals made their own rules. Mrs. Ariti defied fashion law and Elizabeth loved the eccentric boldness the elder glowed in. Only time would tell with how Mr. Darcy received the newer Elizabeth Bennet and if she was just acting out in anxiety rather than a genuine interest in discovering the truth.

Her eyes drifted across the room, remembering the letters she hid from the prying eyes of her sisters and mother. Her father never cared enough to invade their ultimate sanctuary.

Dropping her favorite and most read books into the trunk, she sighed. This was it. She was finally becoming a full-fledged adult. What were a few books missing from the library when her family flirted with disaster at any given moment? Tossing in a hand cloth Kitty made for her for Christmas, she crossed her arms. Best not forget her bonnets or the rest of her dresses. One trunk may not be enough, she chuckled. Lydia’s three trunks of clothing, a source of teasing from the rest of the sisters, made her singular trunk appear as minimalistic living.

The weight lifted off her chest the more she packed into the trunk, the clothes heaped in haphazardly. She hid the books better at the bottom and the letters in their box in the middle.

Laying in bed that night after an eventful upbeat dinner, she stared up at the ceiling and reminisced of the days long since passed.

From child to young woman, the world changed in graduating dissatisfaction and now it all started to improve. She wished Jane were next to her so they could whisper and giggle like girls again. She wished Charlotte hugged her, but a letter would suffice. Charlotte would never believe her, and she chose to expose her choices to Meryton after she left for Scotland, not before.

Closing her eyes, she soon succumbed to dreams too hazy to remember when she woke up the next morning.

Mr. Archwood and Mrs. Ariti arrived at 10:30 am sharp.

Kitty and Mary lingered, wanting the truth from the horse’s mouth.

“Mr. Bennet, a moment of your time.” Mr. Archwood motioned to the study. Her father raised his brow at her in passing and the two closed the door in the face of the curious ladies.

Mrs. Bennet stared down Mrs. Ariti, lip quivering. “Ma’am.” 

Mrs. Ariti bowed her head. “Mrs. Bennet, I must thank you for letting your daughter in my company again. She is a blessing. A mighty distraction.” Elizabeth sighed, already picking up the cues before they even departed for Netherfield Park.

Kitty squealed. “Oh, Mama, might I call on Lizzy on Sunday?”

“No.” Mrs. Bennet forced a smile. “I intend to visit Lady Lucas and you’ll attend. Maria Lucas has information on Mr. Barnett, and he is a handsome young man who shows interest in you.”

Mary rolled her eyes and bit her tongue.

“Mary, you will not either. You are Kitty’s escort now. You need to help each other now that Elizabeth has set her sights on traveling – as I assume, you’ll travel and wish my daughter’s company?” Mrs. Ariti nodded. “So, you see, Mary, you’ll join us on Sunday. Mr. Brook will offer to you. He has already asked Mr. Bennet for permission.”

Mary’s jaw dropped. “Mama!” A squeal pierced the emptiness and Elizabeth winced. “Lizzy?” She faced her elder sister, a slow grin spreading across her face like a lantern in the dark.

She shrugged. “He hinted at it at the party, Mary. Were you not listening?”

A red-faced Mary crossed her arms. “Little words are not promises.”

Mrs. Ariti bowed her head and stepped back.

“He cares for you. Introduced you to his family. Even if his mother is objectionable.” Kitty cut in.

They all nodded. Mary uncrossed her arms. “He hasn’t offered yet. Stop speculating.”

Kitty threw her hand up. Elizabeth stepped back to stand next to Mrs. Ariti, an arm’s length and inches safer from Mary’s wrath. Mrs. Bennet huffed.

“Does no one care to be married?” A stressed mother eyed up her children mutinously.

They all looked at their mother. “We are not naïve, Mama.” Kitty said. “Not everyone will meet a Mr. Bingley.”

Mrs. Bennet protested their idiocy vehemently regardless of Mrs. Ariti’s presence and the general disapproval of her daughters, much wiser in age and experience than she cared for. The study door gradually opened, and Mr. Bennet stepped forward first. He placed his hands-on Elizabeth’s shoulders and kissed her forehead.

“You have my blessing, child. Think of us. We will of you.” He said to the bewilderment of everyone except Elizabeth, Mrs. Ariti and Mr. Archwood.

She relaxed. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Go. I will inform your mother and sisters. A joyous moment in your life.” He hugged her close, like a father should, and released her into Mrs. Ariti’s care. Before anyone moved, Elizabeth bear hugged Mary and Kitty telling them to pursue their gentlemen without fear. Light on her feet, she hummed to herself and when the last of Longbourn faded from carriage window view, she sat back and sighed.

Mr. Archwood tipped his hat to her. “Your father offered no resistance, only shock.”

She nodded. “I distrusted immortals before your arrival. I have erred and ask your forgiveness.”

“No need to.” Mrs. Ariti’s open smile and Mr. Archwood’s easy pleasantries convinced her she was safe from their censure. “You are not the first nor last we have cured of this distrust. Nor are all immortals the same. We are people.”

Elizabeth fully relaxed. If only Mr. Darcy opened his own schedule so that she might measure his current thoughts and emotions surrounding her choice to join the coven. All but one obstacle stood in her way.

The gentleman that yanked her heart – Mr. Darcy.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth walks the path she chooses. 
> 
> Last Chapter

She refused to unpack her trunk if she were to travel to Scotland soon. Curling up on the bed, she closed her eyes and breathed. The sensation of air flowing through her body became the sole focus of her attention. Savoring the mortal experience and hoping to immortalize it in her memory, she opened her eyes and sat up slowly. Flexing her hands, she wondered how this would feel as an immortal.

A knock at the door interrupted the exploratory investigation.

Miss Boording bounced on her toes, a toothy smile turning her from shy recluse to the average lady. “May I help you unpack?”

Elizabeth stepped aside. “I am not unpacking but you are welcome to sit with me.”

“I must have you know that everyone is eager for you to join us.” Miss Boording skipped into the room and dropped onto an armchair dramatically. “Including Mr. Darcy.”

She doubted the words spoken. “He does not act it.”

“He is afraid of commitment. Immortals are infamous for shattering hearts and ending decades of marriage on a whim.” Miss Boording stated matter-of-factly and gave her an odd look.

“I am not demanding he marry me. He could smile at the very least.” Elizabeth grumbled. “He ran from the room immediately after learning I was joining the coven.”

Miss Boording chuckled.

“Was he this uneasy about Jane joining?” Elizabeth demanded, the stinging insult attacking her pride. She thought she knew where she stood with him, and now she wasn’t so certain anymore.

The younger lady shrugged. “He accepted because Mr. Bingley is his friend. Mr. Bingley loved Jane. Jane declared that she loved Mr. Bingley. Forgive me, but to speak the truth, no one truly believes that she loves him.”

Unable to sit still, Elizabeth needed a distraction. Rummaging in her trunk, Elizabeth produced a damaged copy of one of Shakespeare’s plays. She sat on her bed and faced Miss Boording, a portrait of youth and barely spoiled innocence. A few years likely separated them, maybe half a decade. “Mr. Bingley annoys me.” She confessed.

“He is not every lady’s sort of gentleman.”

“He is respectable. I just find his constant need for company and irresponsibility grating. He needs a governess.” Elizabeth snorted and cleared her mind.

“An older Lydia Bennet?”

“Older and wealthier.” Elizabeth realized exactly why Mr. Bingley rubbed her the wrong way. Cracking open the book, she fanned through the treasured pages. She hoped Mr. Bingley matured as an adult, otherwise Jane’s happiness would wear.

Miss Boording fiddled with her hands. “When you rejoin us after a couple years, will you attend a season in London?”

Sensing the nervous energy, Elizabeth folded her legs underneath her skirt. “I do not know.” She did not know if Mr. Darcy would offer marriage. She intended to live in Scotland for nearly a decade before trusting herself around mortals. “Are you asking for an escort?”

“Maybe?” Miss Boording practically pleaded.

“Elizabeth, please.” Elizabeth smiled in an attempt to make the lady comfortable. “I will gladly escort you if I am able.”

Miss Boording grinned ear to ear. Bracing for a flying ambush hug, Elizabeth pushed away disappointment when no hug came. “Are you ready?” She whispered.

Elizabeth thought she knew what the younger lady referred to, but to be certain she asked for clarification.

The lady cleared her throat nervously and glanced at the closed door. “For immortality.”

Ready? No. No one was ready to die, but to be happy? A small sacrifice. The rules of the supernatural world lured her in more than any potential for a wonderful mortal husband.

“I am as ready as any person. I do not wish to experience the pain, but it is part of the transition, I am guessing.” She opened to the first page. “Would you like to read with me?”

Miss Boording joined her on the bed. “I’m a fast reader.” She radiated positive energy, and Elizabeth welcomed all of it. They lost themselves in Hamlet and time slipped past them. A servant broke their immersion, and Mrs. Ariti playfully lectured them on being late to dinner at the dinner table sans Saji-san.

“A lady is never late.” Miss Boording stated confidently. “Only fashionably timed.”

Elizabeth laughed heartily. “True. It’s the gentlemen who are late.”

“Always.” Mrs. Ariti smirked at her husband. Julian shook his head at the foolishness, a smile revealing his approval of the bonding. “I’m glad you’re eating dinner with us, Annabeth.”

Mrs. Boording blushed. “I needed company.”

“We are pleased to welcome the new voice of reason.” Mr. Darcy said, avoiding Elizabeth’s steady gaze. “Are your studies current?”

“I have the best tutors. Father will be most pleased when he returns from business.” She glowed.

“You always have a home with us.” Mr. Archwood assured her. “Even if you do not marry.”

“I may need a companion when Selene-“ Elizabeth cringed at the familiar use of Cleopatra’s chosen given name. “-chooses to travel. I am not Mr. Bingley, but I do long for company occasionally.”

Mr. Darcy frowned. “We all have faults.”

“Indeed, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth said. She stilled as a servant placed a plate of delectable food in front of her. “Yours is the ability to trust another.” Why did she expect him to love her after a short acquaintance? What a foolish notion worthy of Lydia!

“And yours is to be stubbornly uninformed.”

“Communication is like a street, sir. Traffic flows both ways.” Elizabeth stated firmly.

Mrs. Ariti and Mr. Archwood leaned out of the stalemate. Miss Boording leaned in, eyes flashing between Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“You are correct, Miss Bennet.”

“Thank you.” She bowed her head to pray and cocked and ear to any following replies. No one dared to add or pull from the subject and when Elizabeth looked up, Mr. Darcy almost appeared to regret his words.

Inhaling the scent of dinner, she added it to the growing ledger of experiences to be compared when she became immortal. A part of her hoped she never lost the ability to taste food as it was meant to be. Miss Boording looked at her as if her mind ran off, and an embarrassed Elizabeth said nothing. No one would understand.

Several minutes passed before Mr. Archwood tapped his fork to a glass. Every gaze turned to the co-leader of the coven.

“We are all aware of Miss Bennet gracing us with her eternal company, and I wish to be the responsible leader and answer any questions. Afterwards, Miss Bennet, if you would join us in the library, we can inform you of the schedule and required actions.

Elizabeth measured her words. “Selene answered all my questions.”

“Are you aware of what to expect in Scotland??” He asked.

She shook her head. “Jane is there. That is all I need to know.”

“The regulations and laws of Scotland differ. You are familiar with the broad laws, not the specifics.” Mr. Archwood said and nodded to Mr. Darcy. “Mr. Darcy agreed to escort you and be your adviser.”

“Oh?” She faced the man who toyed with her heart, whether he was aware or not. “Quite the surprise. Thank you, sir.”

He nodded to her. “We all deserve the equal footing.”

Holding her tongue, she reverted her attention back to Mr. Archwood.

“I would sacrifice my wife-“

Elizabeth held up her hand. “I understand, sir.”

Smiles passed between them.

Mr. Archwood raised his glass of bloodwine. “To family.”

“To the coven.” Mrs. Ariti raised her own.

Miss Boording and Elizabeth raised the cups of tea. Mr. Darcy nodded to Elizabeth and added his glass of bloodwine to the party.

Talk of Scotland dominated the table talk and well into the music room where Mr. Darcy and Miss Boording listened to Mr. Cull play. Elizabeth joined the leaders of the coven in the library and expected censure for being direct with Mr. Darcy. Settling in, she waited for them to speak or present her with books or gifts.

Mrs. Ariti perused the shelves while Mr. Archwood crossed his arms and faced her.

A cornered cat. She was a cornered cat.

“We do not doubt your intentions. We trust you wish to join us.” He started. She shifted nervously in the seat. “We cannot inform you why Mr. Darcy defies his attraction to you. We can speculate, and I do not want to speculate on his personal emotional affairs.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “My heart may yearn but it will heal.”

“I am glad to hear that. It brings me comfort to know you will consider other gentlemen.” Mr. Archwood uncrossed his arms. “When would you wish to be made? By who?”

Taken back, she nodded slowly. “It is not intended to offend, but I do not want it to be a seemingly ‘indifferent’ gentleman. I would want Mrs. Ariti to.”

Mrs. Ariti turned around. A mutinous scowl overtook Mr. Archwood temporarily before he faced Elizabeth again.

“My wife has a tradition. A red gown for the ceremony. No shoes. Hair tied up. Prayers. And then everyone but the creator to witness the act.” He explained quickly. “She’s a superstitious woman who takes her self-created traditions seriously.”

“When are you willing to-“

“Make you an immortal?” Mrs. Ariti said. “We need a day to prepare.”

Elizabeth blinked. “One day? So soon.”

“Cold feet.” They studied her.

“No.” Jane dragged out the turning date. Jane wanted Mr. Bingley and/or his money. Why was she surprised by this? “May we schedule for the day after tomorrow?”

They exchanged glances and then nodded.

She sighed. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy acted like a stranger, and nothing Miss Boording said changed the regret she suffered for opening up to his small attentions. If the gentleman wished to distance himself she would grant him his space and give him six months of her time. If he failed to show increased interest she would reject him as a suitor and hope to meet a gentleman who wanted her without hesitation.

“Midnight after tomorrow you are to become immortal.” Mr. Archwood announced with finality that struck Elizabeth at the core.

She stood and brushed her skirts. Her head hurt and she needed personal space from everyone. “Thank you.” She bowed to them and stumbled out of the library too wrapped in her own thoughts to notice Saji-san watching her discreetly.

True to her word, Elizabeth spent the majority of the next morning and afternoon alone – much to Miss Boording’s disappointment. She wrote her final, several paged letters to her sisters, preferring to address each separately as they pursued a different future through choice of spouse. She wrote a letter to her mother and father, feeling none too charitable to her mother and increasingly detached from her father as she reflected on what he lead them into and how he never bothered to be the father they sorely needed.

Charlotte and Maria Lucas earned a one page letter promising future communications. She wrote to Miss Long out of obligation, not particularly close with the lady but a friendly acquaintance she would oddly miss. Her second to last meal as an immortal disappointed her, not because it was poorly cooked, but because the end of mortality drew near she cherished the small details.

Clung to them, in fact, like a babe’s mouth to its mother’s breast

Her last day as a mortal she squandered away walking the grounds alone with her own thoughts. Surprisingly no second thoughts haunted her. She embraced the peace of the decision. To reach death’s door but not lose herself entirely in the darkness. No heaven or hell for her, not until she met her immortal mortal end.

She skipped dinner, instead choosing a witty end to a dreary one.

Mrs. Ariti delivered the ankle length, one size fits all, red gown personally. She brushed out Elizabeth’s hair like a mother to a child. They said nothing for an extended period of time. Tension built up around them with each stroke of the brush through stubborn thick hair.

“It will be painful.” Mrs. Ariti warned her. “Do you still wish to proceed?”

She shivered, the cold the room sneaking through the thin gown. “Yes.”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy is no part of your final decision?” Critical eyes peered back at her from the mirror.

“No.”

She decided to ignore the emotional ties. They were worthless at this moment. She chose freedom. “He is not a factor.”

Mrs. Ariti cupped her chin. “I hope so. Becoming an immortal for someone else is the worst reason.” She dropped her hands and motioned for Elizabeth to stand. “Have you prayed?”

She appreciated the thoughtfulness. Nodding, words stuck in her throat.

Mrs. Ariti clasped her hands behind her back. “One last chance.”

Elizabeth stepped toward her. “I am ready.”

Her heart beat wildly. Gentle, soft hands cupped Elizabeth’s face. No words exchanged. The world turned black the moment she blinked, and Selene Ariti held the unconscious Elizabeth Bennet in her arms.

Fangs protruded from parted lips and the immortal effortlessly positioned the mortal for the first taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Author’s Note* Thank you for those that have made it this far. I hope you have enjoyed it, and if you didn’t, that you find a fic that makes you happy. For those that are interested, this is ‘Book 1’. Elizabeth and Darcy will have another ‘Book’ to bring them to a happy ending. I will also be writing a separate fic for Kitty and Mr. Barnett, an extension of the supernatural world. I will not be detailing Mary and Mr. Brook’s life, but we can all rest assured Mrs. Brook will eventually cross swords with Mrs. Bennet.   
> I will be taking a three month hiatus to focus on a personal writing project, a sequel to a novel I self published (this is not advertising or asking you to buy my book. Only an explanation so people aren’t left without background.).   
> I may or may not be posting one shots during this time, to grant myself the creative headspace I will occasionally need for my original work. When I return to fully writing, it will be either Kitty or Elizabeth that I pick up with.   
> I have two AUs for Pride and Prejudice that struck me as the next grand project after the planned arc is complete. The first is a modern AU. Each new fic must feel different to me, and I am constantly looking for different ways to stretch my creative writing ability. The second is a fairy tale type of setting with the roles of power reversed. It may not be solely focused on EB/FD but that would be the setting. I still plan on writing the crossover with the Purge universe. I also plan on pairing Elizabeth Bennet and Caroline Bingley, but I am not ready to tackle that in a fic.   
> Thank you for all the reviews, good and bad. Thank you for taking the time to read this fic. I will likely never rewrite it, attempt to publish it, etc. I do this for fun, and I’m happy you can enjoy it too. Be safe and enjoy the free time the best you can. Sincerely, The Unpredictable Muse


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